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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30038427">nine2five season 3</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorGuy/pseuds/AuthorGuy'>AuthorGuy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chuck (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:07:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>105,633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30038427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorGuy/pseuds/AuthorGuy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vivian Volkoff and the Ring join forces, as Team B goes on the warpath. Their first goal is to capture the Norseman, but that's only one small part of the long-laid plot known as Project Omaha.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chuck Bartowski/Sarah Walker, Devon "Captain Awesome" Woodcomb/Ellie Bartowski Woodcomb, Morgan Grimes/Alex McHugh</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Swamp Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="xcontrast">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I think this season of nine2five will be written up as one long story, rather than as a series of episodes. I originally wrote the episode format because I thought the style of the various episodes differed, so I could specify appropriate genres as I needed to, but I doubt this season that will be the case. I also think I'll repost all the chapters of the previous two seasons in single stories as well. At least one commenter has suggested this as well, so the ayes have it.</p>
      <p>I've seen a lot of criticism of the S4 finale, regarding the way they jumped from 'Chuck bringing the antidote' to 'the wedding', when the people doing the complaining wanted the scene of Sarah waking up and the rapturous reunion. While I doubt most people are as emotionally invested in Devon&amp;Ellie as they are in Chuck&amp;Sarah, I'm filling in that empty space from my last chapter.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>What have you done to me, Charles?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I'm a little brother."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>We killed his </em>pregnant sister<em>, Mr. Riley!"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Quinn, ma'am. Nicholas Quinn."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Congratulations, Dr. Winterbottom."</p>
      <p>The voice was dull and flat, like a rusty saw, but it promised far more pain. Doug almost stopped, but the men he was running with turned at the sound of the voice, and an arm caught him on the back and pushed him on his way. Right. No stopping for him.</p>
      <p>The group down the hall, family and more family, were already in motion, running toward the danger he was leaving behind. They parted around him and closed ranks behind him, leaving him with the other civilian, Dr. Woodcombe.</p>
      <p>"Hey Doug, you all right?" said the annoyingly handsome heart surgeon, but it was hard to hold his looks against him when he was so genuinely nice.</p>
      <p>Doug put a finger to his lips and pulled a tube from his pocket. Devon's eyes widened in amazement, but he lost no time pushing open the door so Doug didn't have to stop. Good reflexes. Having a family full of spies must do that to you. Together they ran to the room where Ellie was currently slowing to a stop, and Devon ran faster to make sure that door was open too.</p>
      <p>"Here!" yelled Doug, to the doctor who was even now preparing trays of implements for emergency surgery. "About half, in the tube."</p>
      <p>The doctor scanned the green liquid suspiciously. "Will it hurt the baby?"</p>
      <p>"It shouldn't," puffed out Doug, not used to this much exertion. He pointed at the trays. "But that will certainly kill the mother."</p>
      <p>The doctor looked at the next of kin.</p>
      <p>"Do it," said Devon, far more accustomed to making decisions in highly uncertain conditions than he ever wanted to be. He watched as the doctor injected the contents of the syringe into the tube–too much? Not enough?–all the while drifting closer to Ellie's side, taking her hand in his. So pale, so cold. <em>Come on, babe.</em></p>
      <p>"Vitals are stabilizing."</p>
      <p>Ellie took a deeper breath. Her hand squeezed his slightly, and she moaned.</p>
      <p>"Temperature is rising."</p>
      <p>"Places, people," said the obstetrician. "The baby's our priority now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What do you mean, you lost him?" snarled Decker. "We need that pathetic geek to keep Volkoff in line."</p>
      <p>"This guy wasn't a geek, Mr. Decker," said Tommy, as incapable of sounding sorry as he did being kind. "They must have slipped in a ringer on us, he took down four guys before I could move."</p>
      <p>"That damn Bartowski," said Decker. "He's clever. Probably has Winterbottom in some hole under Washington by now. We'll never find him in time." They had a number of fall-back positions to choose from, and Decker chose. "We'll have to escalate."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"She's beautiful," whispered Ellie, her body weaker than her voice as Devon held up her child for her to see.</p>
      <p>"Just like her mother," he said as Ellie yawned. "Rest easy, babe. I'll hold the fort this time."</p>
      <p>"You hold the fort, I'll hold my granddaughter," said Mary, sitting in the rocker with her arms outstretched. Devin was quick to surrender his new baby girl. El was already out of it, and this Mama B was more Bear than Bartowski.</p>
      <p>The door banged open, and two figures in green scrubs came through. "Chuck, will you just let me get this damn thing tied off…?" said the new grandfather.</p>
      <p>"I want to see."</p>
      <p>Stephen rolled his eyes. "You uncles today. Devon, a little help?"</p>
      <p>"Whoa, Chuckster," said Devon, catching sight of Chuck's hands, the reason his father was tying the strings on his scrubs. They'd gotten most of the fragments out, and rinsed off the fake antidote, but the wounds were still oozing blood. "Let's get you cleaned up, dude. No baby-holding with <em>those</em> hands." He pulled Chuck over to a chair as Stephen went to stand by his wife. "Sit." He put a towel on Chuck's knees to keep the blood off the floor, went to the door and asked the nurse for a suture tray.</p>
      <p>"Where's Sarah?" said Devon as he sat and adjusted the light to do a visual scan.</p>
      <p>"Went after Hartley," said Chuck absently, watching his Mom and his Dad with his niece, all the new people in his family in one place. Ellie was down but the lights and beeps told him she wasn't out yet. He felt…<em>blessed</em>, he felt–pain! "<em>Ah</em>."</p>
      <p>"Looks like you missed a piece," said Devon as the nurse brought in the tray, setting up a table for him. She also had some latex gloves and a mask. "Thanks," said Devon. "I'll call you if I need you." He waited until she left, his fingers treating the wounds automatically as he asked about what really mattered to him. "What happened out there?"</p>
      <p>Chuck winced as the last fragments came out. "Bad guys after Hartley. When he came down with the antidote, they jumped him and Dad. Hartley pretended to have the antidote and I fell for it, and the bad guy crushed the tube in my hands." He stared at his hands, struggling to hold on to that feeling of peace as it slipped away. "I felt like he'd crushed Ellie, because of me. He wanted me to live with that."</p>
      <p>"Hey, relax, Chuck," said Devon, as the fingers he was treating started to clench. "You guys won. You tricked them, you beat them, and they don't even know it." When the fingers relaxed he went back to work. "What was in the tube?" he asked, both to get Chuck's mind on to some other topic, and because he was concerned about contamination.</p>
      <p>"Saline," said Stephen from across the room, his attention still seeming focused on the baby. "Mixed with a green antiseptic."</p>
      <p><em>Good ears. </em>"Good idea." Not that Devon didn't put on a new batch of antiseptic anyway, but this one was red. "Doesn't look like you'll need stitches, at least. A few strips, maybe tape 'em for good measure, you should be good to go, as long as you take it easy with the fisticuffs and the typing."</p>
      <p><em>Um…</em>"Devon, you do know what I do for a living, right?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh sat in the lab, watching Chuck's video presentation. No one had stayed to see the end, but it was his favorite part. The whole thing was about Ellie, because Chuck was all about Ellie. Some of his best music in there, but no one heard it, because Ellie…</p>
      <p>He flipped a switch, and the whole thing died.</p>
      <p><em>She'd</em> almost died, and her baby with her, and if it had been up to him she would have died, he was so useless. He made the lights twinkle, while Chuck rode to the rescue. Again.</p>
      <p>Suddenly he couldn't stand to just sit anymore. He jerked to his feet, the sudden motion propelling his chair across the room, where it slammed into a cabinet, and Manoosh turned at the noise. The cabinet door opened and a box fell out, but he was too slow to catch it before it fell to the floor.</p>
      <p>"No!" he whined, snatching it up. "Please don't be broken! Please don't be broken!" He opened the box and unwrapped the bubble wrap, checking the lenses for cracks, the earpieces for any obvious damage. Nothing obvious, and he breathed easier. These things were expensive.</p>
      <p>Yeah.</p>
      <p>Expensive.</p>
      <p><em>I should check them out.</em> He nodded to himself at this sage advice. He didn't need Ellie to tell him his business. Maybe he was stuck fixing moisture vaporators, or fixing X-Wings so someone else could fly them and blow up Death Stars and get all the great girls, but…um…<em>where was I?</em></p>
      <p>He looked at his hands. Right. Glasses. He should check them out.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>John Casey tried to run, but there was no place to go, nowhere to hide. "How do you hold it?" he asked, as Devon held out his little girl.</p>
      <p>"It's a 'her', John, not an 'it'," he said with a laugh.</p>
      <p>Casey glanced around at all the people catching this travesty on video. Payback, that's what it was, for recording that CAT-fight in Prague for Sarah. He acquiesced with a grunt, pretty high-numbered on Chuck's list since he didn't use it often. At least they could be trusted not to put it on the Internet.</p>
      <p>"Come on, John," said Devon, pulling his attention back to the center. "Just imagine that this is Alex." He gestured toward the bed where Ellie lay. "Imagine that that's <em>her</em> mother, uh…"</p>
      <p>"Kathleen," said Casey. She'd been Alex Coburn's fiancée but Alex Coburn was dead. Died in childbirth, after a fashion. Never married his fiancée. Never held his daughter, or been a father to her. He wondered what Alex had been like as a girl, as a child. He looked at his hands, his empty hands. He had a daughter but he would never have a child.</p>
      <p>"Right," said Devon, his voice low. "That's Kathleen over there, exhausted. This is her child, <em>your</em> child, that the nurses have wrapped up warm and placed in your hands." Devon put his child in Casey's hands.</p>
      <p>They came up automatically to hold her, one arm underneath, one on the outside as Casey held her to his chest. "Hey, my girl," he whispered to her. He reached out a finger to stroke her cheek and stopped, the spell broken. "I can't do this," he said suddenly, turning to Carina and depositing Clara in her surprised arms.</p>
      <p>"Wait, what am <em>I</em> supposed to do with it?" she asked his back as he headed for the door.</p>
      <p>"Casey, what's the matter?" asked Chuck, lowering his phone as Devon moved to put Carina's hands in the correct places.</p>
      <p>Casey stopped by the door and held up his hands. "I don't want the first thing that little girl smells to be the stink of gunpowder all over me. And Miller!" He pointed. "She's a 'her', not an 'it'. Treat her like one." He pushed through the doors and vanished.</p>
      <p>Carina looked at Devon. "We stink of gunpowder?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, kind'a," he said apologetically.</p>
      <p>Carina pushed back, leaving the child with her father. "I have to go change."</p>
      <p>Devon stood there as the doors closed a second time, confused. "Devon?" said Mary, holding out her arms. Always ready to do her duty.</p>
      <p>"My turn," said Sarah suddenly. She sat up straight in her chair and held out her arms. Mary sat back, not entirely displeased. She reached up and caught Stephen's hand where it rested on her shoulder, content to look on.</p>
      <p>"Awesome!" said Devon, placing Clara gently in her new aunt's arms. Sarah folded them naturally and expertly into a safe and supportive position. Devon beamed. "Somebody was paying attention."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hartley Winterbottom strolled out of the haberdashery in fine form. The clothing would take a little getting used to, a far cry from his tailored power suits. Stranger still were the newly and expertly applied mustache and goatee, which he was unable to resist stroking from time to time. New laptop in hand, he sought out an Internet café, there to set up the next phase of his plan. No one would expect him to be retracing Volkoff's footsteps, but walking over them was the only way to erase them forever.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey went downstairs, freshly showered and smelling not at all like gunpowder, when he heard his phone buzz with the sound of a voicemail message. Alex. Must be back from that graduation trip Grimes took her on.</p>
      <p>He called back but got her voicemail too. "Alex, it's Dad. Sorry I haven't been available lately. Ellie delivered today, so we're all at the hospital. You know how they are about cell phones. Stop by, we'll catch up."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What do you mean I missed?"</p>
      <p>"Exactly what I said, Quinn," replied Decker. "Not only did your assault on Agent Miller's position fail, your own attack on Agent Rizzo did nothing except draw Agent Charles into the mix. Sooner or later they'll pull the matter off the back burner and realize it was you." Decker may have needed Quinn, but he wasn't about to let Quinn know that.</p>
      <p>Quinn frowned at the schadenfreude in the other man's tone, but sucked it up. He'd lost all his men in that attack, and he still didn't know how Miller got away. Didn't know how she'd twigged to him in the first place, or would have, if his little virus in the CIA's Racial Rec programming hadn't done its job. Even so his failure to protect his clients had hurt him badly, damaged his reputation, and only the fact that he'd lost to Volkoff and Walker together kept him afloat. No one could beat Volkoff, until suddenly Agent Charles did, and he had Walker in his corner too.</p>
      <p>What Quinn wouldn't give to have a soldier like Walker in his organization, not that he had an organization now. All he had were definite enemies, and possible allies. Time to swallow his pride. "What are you offering?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Vail?" asked Casey, sitting with the baby while Chuck and Sarah were out getting some food. Alex was taking pictures, lots of pictures. "I didn't know they made skis with training wheels, Grimes."</p>
      <p>"Ho, ho," said Morgan, deadpan, theatrically wiping his eyes. "My sides. No, Casey, that would be training <em>skids</em>, but I didn't go to Vail to ski, I went to Vail to be skeen. That…sounded better in my head."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted agreement. "Should'a kept it there."</p>
      <p>"Alex was a natural on the slopes," Morgan said enthusiastically, always willing to change topics. "Left me behind on the bunny slopes that first day, but that was okay, 'cause then I was the tallest, well, except for the instructor."</p>
      <p>"You let your girlfriend parade around the slopes of Vail with top-notch celebrity ski instructors while you hung around the kiddie pool?" Casey looked down. Less than a day old and asleep, and Clara was still clearly more sensible than that.</p>
      <p>"Of course not," scoffed Morgan. "Once I mastered the bunny slope I went shopping, found some really good places to eat, but the prices, oh man…" He rolled his eyes.</p>
      <p>So did Casey, probably not for the same reason. "Grimes–"</p>
      <p>"It was <em>fine</em>, Dad," said Alex, although she really would have preferred to have Morgan around. Make her relationship status as obvious as it needed to be, for all those celebrity ski instructors, every one of whom <em>knew</em> they were a celebrity and acted accordingly. "I got bored. I found Morgan in a sandwich shop, making a deal on some food in exchange for the recipe." She smiled. What a scrounger.</p>
      <p>Somehow 'making a deal' sounded less than totally honorable the way she said it. "I have a reputation to uphold," said Morgan. "You can't find the best places in town to eat for under ten dollars when everything costs more than ten dollars, so I had to strike a bargain. This was a matter of principle."</p>
      <p>Cheapskate. "Yeah, you're a real hero."</p>
      <p>"Oh, so close." Morgan help up a hand, fingers an inch apart. "But no, a totally different sandwich. I was spreading the gospel of my favorite menu item from my Buy More days, turkey and muenster on egg bread, grilled."</p>
      <p>"Sounds good," said Casey. As long as it wasn't K-rations, it was good to Casey.</p>
      <p>"You bet," said Morgan. "That deli guy was selling 'em like hotcakes by the time we left, best deal he ever made. Of course, it didn't hurt that I was talking it up all over town."</p>
      <p>"<em>All</em> …over," said Alex.</p>
      <p>"Hey, I was networking," said Morgan. "Those high-rollers come to DC a lot, they gotta eat somewhere, right?"</p>
      <p>"Grimes–"</p>
      <p>"Dad–"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"What?"</p>
      <p>Sarah handed off the bags with the food to her mother-in-law so she could hold her husband. "You're spiraling."</p>
      <p>He hugged her back, something his damaged hands were up to. "She could have died, Sarah. Clara could have died too."</p>
      <p>"The Norseman would have ignored Clara, Chuck," said Mary.</p>
      <p>"It should have ignored <em>Ellie</em>, shouldn't it? She wasn't the target." <em>She should never be a target. </em>"But she was standing next to me and the Norseman found her. She shouldn't even have been there."</p>
      <p>Mary got a strange look on her face. "Say that again."</p>
      <p>"She shouldn't even have been there."</p>
      <p>"No," said Mary. "Before that. She was standing next to you."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>One thorough physical examination later…</p>
      <p>Beckman stared at the slim little needle, blown up to several times its actual size on the monitor. "A fourth tracker?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, General," said Sarah. "If it's Vivian's she'd have known where he was ever since she put it into him."</p>
      <p>"Which was when?"</p>
      <p>"Given its size, shape, and likely power consumption and other parameters," said Chuck, putting those figures up in print too small to read, "We suspect the day Vivian gave us the first piece of the Norseman. The supposed attack on her would have made an excellent distraction."</p>
      <p>"She killed her own men?" asked Hannah.</p>
      <p>"Probably the biggest bunch of losers in her entire guard cadre," said Casey, unconcerned with that little detail. "It would explain how she knew we were in Switzerland when even Orion couldn't know we would be there."</p>
      <p>"More to the point it gave her a general direction to aim the Norseman, without ever needing to know exactly where I was. Either the lab or my house, and then wait to see if the tracker went to a hospital."</p>
      <p>"Which it did," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"So she may think you're dead."</p>
      <p>"Or not," said Sarah. "You went after Hartley, remember?"</p>
      <p>Chuck wasn't likely to forget, after she tore strips out of him for using the Nighthawk to do it. "A possibility," he admitted. "Unless she stopped tracking after the signal reached the hospital in the first place. The Norseman is supposed to be one hundred percent accurate. Clearly it isn't but Vivian may not know that."</p>
      <p>"I'm unwilling to risk your life on that possibility, Agent Bartowski."</p>
      <p>"Neither are we, General," said Sarah, with a hefty dose of gratitude. "But it does give us a window of opportunity. We've found the tracker, we have a cure. I say we take the war to her."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Ellie woke to the sound of somebody talking.</p>
      <p>"…And that is how the Frost Queen came back to her family," said Mary as Clara sucked on a bottle of sweetened water. "And she never left them ever again. Good story?" She felt Clara's body stiffen. "Good story. She even took care of the baby's first poop, which really stinks, but you won't read about that in any of the stories."</p>
      <p>"That bad, huh?" asked Ellie.</p>
      <p>"Hey," said Mary softly, with a joyous smile. "You're just in time."</p>
      <p>"For stinky baby poop?" asked Ellie in dismay.</p>
      <p>"Level four biohazard," said Mary. "I'll take care of it, but remind your husband he owes me."</p>
      <p>"Where is Devon?"</p>
      <p>"Getting some rest, I hope," said Frost from across the room. "Between the Norseman, the antidote to the Norseman, the delivery, and the post-delivery, he really wore himself out."</p>
      <p>"I thought they were afraid she'd use the Norseman against Chuck." She waved a hand in front of her nose. "Oh my God."</p>
      <p>Mary slid the biohazard into a containment unit and double-knotted the bag, holding her breath all the while. "She did, we think, but for some reason it affected you instead. Well, the part that you and Chuck have in common, I guess, which may be why you're alive…"</p>
      <p>"Is Chuck all right?"</p>
      <p>"Right as rain, and off to war," said Mary, lifting her newly-wrapped granddaughter from the change-table, and brought her to mommy. "He and Sarah convinced the General to send them out after Vivian directly, and the General was smart enough not to try and stop them. This team loves you."</p>
      <p>Ellie frowned, even as she held her daughter for the first time. "Well, that's ridiculous, Sarah can't go to war, not in her condition."</p>
      <p>Mary's good mood evaporated. "What condition?" Not that damned Atroxium again.</p>
      <p>"She's pregnant," said Ellie. "I saw it in the telemetry before you ever got there. I told you all…" She tried to think back to that time, but the memories were fuzzy. "Didn't I?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Guess they'd better win this war quickly, then.</p>
      <p>I wanted to bring the pregnancy up in the last chapter of the last episode, but that's not what the story wanted.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="xcontrast">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I had to go back to Bearded Bandit for some of the introductory material on Verbanski, but otherwise I'll be filling in the spaces in Chuck vs the Kept Man.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>The baby's our priority now."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>How do you hold it?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>She was standing next to you."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Sarah can't go to war, not in her condition."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In the maternity ward…</p>
      <p>"Miami?" said Ellie, watching Carina like a hawk. "What's in Miami?"</p>
      <p>"Not me," said Carina, staring at the baby in her arms. Arm. Had to keep a hand free. "I wouldn't even know they were there, except that they had to tell me why I wasn't going with them."</p>
      <p>"So why is that?"</p>
      <p>Carina stroked the baby's cheek gently. "This."</p>
      <p>"My daughter's face?"</p>
      <p>"Faces in general, m<em>y</em> face in particular. Whoever they're going after, it's someone who knows me."</p>
      <p>"You <em>are</em> memorable," said Ellie.</p>
      <p><em>Thank you. </em>"True, but most of the people who'd care are in jail now," said Carina. "That narrows the suspect pool a bit." She focused on Clara, to prevent her mind from narrowing it further.</p>
      <p>The door banged open. "They've gone dark al–" said Mary. She stopped short when she saw Carina, tranq pistol in one hand, feet ready to strike, deadly focused glare, and waayyy on the other side of her, a baby who was beginning to squirm at the sudden shift in position. "Sorry. Good reflexes, though." She came forward to take Clara, so Carina could put her weapons away.</p>
      <p>"Thanks. Why is them being dark a problem?" asked the redhead, as Mary returned the infant to her mother.</p>
      <p>"There's a strong possibility Sarah could be pregnant," said Mary.</p>
      <p>"I saw a third pulse in my monitors," said Ellie. "Much too fast to be hers or Chuck's. Could be a fetus."</p>
      <p><em>Let's hear it for high tech. </em>"Crap, they've gone hunting for bear," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"And we have no way to warn them," said Ellie.</p>
      <p>Yes she did. "I'll be joining them after Miami."</p>
      <p>"It's Miami I'm worried about," said Mary. "You can't go there. None of us can."</p>
      <p>'Us' meaning 'CIA', and no, they couldn't. Tagalongs, they had to be. On whose op? Her mind started narrowing down the suspect pool again and this time she let it. "I have to make a phone call," she said, heading for the door. "I'll be right back."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Anybody wanna tell me what we're doing in Miami?" asked Casey, already getting a headache from all the women in bikinis he was keeping his eyes averted from, and that was just the airport. Didn't any of these people know it was winter? "And it had better be mission-related." How could he check six when they were everywhere?</p>
      <p>"Trust me, Casey, I want to see you in a Speedo even less than you want to be seen in one," said Chuck, doing his best to check six on Casey's behalf.</p>
      <p>"Can't say <em>I'd</em> mind," said Sarah, nudging her husband in the ribs. "All the skimpy outfits I've had to wear over the years, be nice to be on the looking-and-leering end for a change."</p>
      <p>"You'd leer?" asked Chuck. He took a deep breath to check if she'd cracked anything.</p>
      <p>"Okay, probably not," said Sarah, once she actually got around to imagining Casey in a Speedo. Almost. She got as far as visualizing him shirtless. "But it's not about doing it, it's about having the opportunity."</p>
      <p>Lecherous female agents were worse than the lecherous males, in Casey's experience. They got fewer opportunities. Which reminded him…"Heh. You should meet Gertrude," he said, under his breath.</p>
      <p>Sarah once heard Chuck's mother over an airplane's engine and a roaring wind, she had no problem with Casey's mutter. "Really, Casey? Gertrude who?"</p>
      <p>"No one."</p>
      <p>"That didn't sound like a 'no one', Casey," said Chuck, backing up his wife as he always would.</p>
      <p>"Let me rephrase that, Bartowski," said Casey. "She's no one you'd want to meet. Verbanski, Gertrude Verbanski. Former KGB, took her act on the road after the Soviet Union collapsed. She's gone up against every major intelligence outfit there is and come out on top. She'd give Agent Charles a run for his money."</p>
      <p>"I think you like her."</p>
      <p>"I think you sound like a six-year-old. I went up against her in Minsk, in 1995. She still has my gun." Casey didn't like people who took his guns.</p>
      <p>"Went up against her, eh?" repeated Chuck with a lot of wink-wink, nudge-nudge in his voice.</p>
      <p>"Sarah, try those ribs again, harder."</p>
      <p>"I don't know, Casey," said Sarah, "He does seem to have a point."</p>
      <p>"What he has, is his head up his…" Grunt. Deep breath. "I was merely expressing professional admiration for a professional who acts professionally. Unlike some spies I could mention."</p>
      <p>"Whoa, you guys are spies?" asked a passing tourist.</p>
      <p>"No, he was just talking about that TV show with the spies in Miami," said Chuck. Maybe there was one.</p>
      <p>"Oh," said the tourist, disappointed, with a strong hint of 'whatever'. "TV spies."</p>
      <p>"Good job, Mr. Professional," said Sarah after they got some privacy again.</p>
      <p>"Come on, Sarah," said Chuck, as Casey stewed in it. "It's good for the cover. Clearly <em>we</em> can't be professional spies, not if we get caught out like that."</p>
      <p>They walked on in silence, just three more tourists, a bit overdressed.</p>
      <p>"Anybody wanna tell me what we're doing in Miami?" said Casey.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, in their hotel room, professionally swept for bugs, and listening devices too…</p>
      <p>"Here you go, Casey. Rocky Falcone," said Chuck, plopping a file with the man's picture and other vital details on the table. "Killed his way to the top of Miami's illegal arms trade."</p>
      <p>Some local yahoo. Casey couldn't have cared less. "So? That's ATF business."</p>
      <p>"Not anymore."</p>
      <p>"Watch yourself, Bartowski," said Casey. "There are rules to this game. Don't become Volkoff while you're destroying her."</p>
      <p>Chuck smiled. "Not my plan, Casey, but thanks for your concern. Thanks to Vivian's consolidation of the illegal arms trade, we have quite a few agencies getting into the interdiction business."</p>
      <p>Casey sneered at the whole idea. "New faces won't go over so well. Dealers will spot them in a second, be all kinds of suspicious."</p>
      <p>"Of new faces, yes."</p>
      <p>"So we hit them with old faces," said Sarah, catching on. "Familiar faces, with perhaps a few new advisers in the background."</p>
      <p>"I was thinking 'muscle' , but 'advisers' works too," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Doesn't make it legal," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"No, but the FBI does. They'll be the ones running the op. We're just along for the ride." He checked his watch. "Or we would be, if there was a ride to be along on. We were all supposed to be here early, get established as guests, but I don't know what's holding them up."</p>
      <p>Someone knocked on the door, and Chuck clapped his hands together. "That should be them now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Hello, John."</p>
      <p>John drew himself up stiffly. "Miss Verbanski."</p>
      <p>"What, no kiss for an old flame?"</p>
      <p>Casey grunted, and turned to meet Gertrude's FBI liaison as Gertrude went on to meet his partners.</p>
      <p>"Colonel Casey," she said.</p>
      <p>"Alex?"</p>
      <p>Verbanski turned at the familiarity. "A little young for you, isn't she, John?"</p>
      <p>He gave her a dark look. "I knew her father." He turned back to his daughter. "What are you doing here?"</p>
      <p>"Field experience."</p>
      <p>"You're going in with us?"</p>
      <p>Alex looked unhappy. "Unfortunately not." She waved a hand around her face. "Too recognizable. I'll be stuck in here while you guys get to do all the hands-on stuff."</p>
      <p><em>Thank God</em>. "That's too bad. Still, this is a high-profile op–" maybe it wasn't before but it sure as hell was now "–your father would be proud. Especially babysitting this one." He jerked a thumb at Gertrude. "She's a brat."</p>
      <p>"I thought I was the one doing the babysitting," said the brat.</p>
      <p>Casey smirked at her. "For Agent McHugh? I don't think so. She'll staple you to the wall if you go off script."</p>
      <p>"I left my nail gun back at the office," said Alex.</p>
      <p>"This is Miami, buy a new one."</p>
      <p>"Speaking of scripts…?" asked Chuck, trying to get the meeting back on track. "Miss Verbanski…" Chuck waited a beat, expecting a polite invitation to use a less formal mode of address. Gertrude sat silently and waited. "Ahem, Casey was just telling us about you."</p>
      <p>Gertrude went still. "You knew I was coming?"</p>
      <p>"No, not at all," said Chuck anxious to reassure her that the op hadn't been blown already. "We were talking about uh, swimwear, actually, and one thing led to another…"</p>
      <p>"Really?" She glared at Casey. "You told them about that?"</p>
      <p>"I didn't <em>tell</em> them anything," said Casey. "But I was thinking about <em>after</em> that."</p>
      <p>"Oh, <em>that</em> 'that'." She looked Casey up and down, with a smile. "You remembered."</p>
      <p>Casey shuddered.</p>
      <p>Chuck watched, wide-eyed, until he received a Casey-style death-glare. "Um, he also told us you're in the, um, private security business?" Polite spy-talk for 'mercenary'.</p>
      <p>"Verbanski Corp. has three hundred agents worldwide. CIA, KGB, Mossad, Interpol. We've worked for both the Pentagon and the Kremlin."</p>
      <p>That sounded like a sales pitch. "Ah. So when Casey said you took your act on the road, he really meant that you'd bought the road and were charging tolls."</p>
      <p>Gertrude gave Casey another glance. "Not all of it."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Dad, what's going on?" asked Alex as they took a break, a few hours later. She and her father's friend Col. John Casey were out on the balcony for some private time.</p>
      <p>"What do you mean?" he asked, his glass held so no one could read his lips from a mile away.</p>
      <p>"I was in a cubicle this morning, going over some case studies, when they dragged me into an office and handed me this assignment. I don't even know what I'm doing here."</p>
      <p>Casey knew. One of the original reasons for sanctioning their marriage, aside from the suicidal idiocy of denying the CIA's top assassin something she really really wanted, was that Chuck's main bodyguard would be there without having to assign anyone to the job. Alex would liaise with Team Bartowski for pretty much the same reason, but he'd let her figure that part out for herself. Field experience. "Didn't sound it."</p>
      <p>"They gave me the other agent's notes. Since when do you go after gun-runners?"</p>
      <p>"Since the world's biggest arms dealer almost killed my partner's sister, and he's a Special Agent." Casey shrugged. "I would have gone for the direct approach."</p>
      <p>"That would just rally her newly-acquired troops around her." Direct frontal assaults will do that.</p>
      <p>On the plus side, it would save him the trouble of hunting them down. "Chuck said the same thing. He's going for a divide-and-conquer strategy."</p>
      <p>Alex considered it. "She's got the Volkoff brand going for her, but some of those ambitious underlings have to be wondering if she's up to it. She's only a woman, you know. In Russia."</p>
      <p>"Is that why Gertrude's here?"</p>
      <p>"Gertrude is here because Gertrude wants to be here, and if there's one thing I've learned about that woman, it's that whatever she wants, she gets." Alex looked past Casey into the room, and saw Gertrude staring at Casey, while Chuck poured drinks all around. She went pale. "Sorry, dad, I have to go."</p>
      <p>Casey followed, curious.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>One home (or hotel room) pregnancy test later…</p>
      <p>Chuck sat in shock. "I'm sorry I was such a clueless, ignorant husband, Sarah."</p>
      <p>Sarah took his hand. "Don't be silly, Chuck. I can't blame you for not picking up that I might be pregnant when I missed all the signs myself."</p>
      <p>"But I should have. My life is all about you."</p>
      <p>Sarah leaned in close, leaning her head on his shoulder. "And mine's all about you."</p>
      <p>"Exactly!" He had no free hands, otherwise he would have flung them about in exasperation. "I wouldn't expect you to notice that you're pregnant, but how can I make all that food and miss the fact that you're starving all the time? And the salads?"</p>
      <p>"And that awful, awful pizza."</p>
      <p>"Hey, that pizza was good, I told you that."</p>
      <p>"It's changing!"</p>
      <p>Chuck lifted the test stick. "I'm seeing a plus sign. Are you seeing a plus sign?"</p>
      <p>Sarah saw a plus sign. She lifted the instructions, checking the output section. "That's a positive."</p>
      <p>Chuck lowered his hand. There must have been something wrong with the stick, it was shaking. "Oh, God. We just declared war." Vivian and the Norseman, she had to have some of Sarah's DNA available, right? <em>How can I get Sarah to stay away from the front line?</em> Maybe they could still call back the messenger, no, that would never work, they'd have to track him down first…</p>
      <p>"Well," said Sarah slowly, her mind sluggish. "We'll just have to win it quickly." <em>No way I'm staying off the front line.</em></p>
      <p>Someone pounded on the bathroom door. "Charles! Chow time."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Meanwhile, back in DC…</p>
      <p>Morgan Grimes made his rounds, the favorite parts of his day. He still loved kitchen work, and occasionally he would doff the jacket and don the chef's coat for a meal or two, just to keep his hand in and his skills fresh. He was at heart a people person, though, and seeing the happiness that his staff brought to their customers was his special managerial privilege.</p>
      <p>He flashed a glance at the secure booth, and found it occupied. <em>Yes.</em> He'd told his boss that a booth where private really did mean private would be a good investment. Chuck told him once that the word in Washington was that when you had an op laid on, there were only two places you could be, in your office of in that booth.</p>
      <p>He recognized the red bun of Chuck's boss easily enough, but her companion wasn't the white-haired smooth-talker she usually came in with. He went over to pay his respects, knocking at the outermost panel to alert the occupants, giving them time to stop talking about delicate topics.</p>
      <p>Or not. "–some clueless newbie stepping all over my operation, dammit!" The man broke off his sentence at Morgan's appearance by the booth.</p>
      <p>General Beckman was more experienced. "Good evening, Mr. Grimes. I don't believe you've met Agent Johnson, of the FBI?"</p>
      <p>Agent Johnson offered his hand. "If I have to commandeer any of your staff, I'll try to let you know."</p>
      <p>Morgan grinned, and matched him quote for quote. "I thought you at the FBI did not have a sense of humor that you were aware of."</p>
      <p>"We don't."</p>
      <p>"Oh." Morgan's smile froze over. He withdrew his hand, wiping it against his lapel as he unnecessarily straightened his suit coat. "Well…okay then. I'll just…leave you to your meal. Agent," he nodded politely. "General."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At the Maya, after the meet…</p>
      <p>"To the happy couple," said Gertrude. Glasses clinked all around, wine to scotch to wine to water. Chuck followed it up with a kiss, determined to make <em>this</em> evening a happy one. She smiled as he pulled back, equally determined.</p>
      <p>"I must say I'm a bit surprised, though," said Verbanski. "I would have thought a pair of spies of your reputation would have taken better precautions. I'm not getting the impression that this was deliberate."</p>
      <p>"It wasn't…exactly," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Charles?" said Casey. "'Not exactly deliberate' sounds like 'almost pregnant', and I think we can all agree that there's no 'almost' involved here."</p>
      <p>"Chuck promised me children years ago, Casey, you know that," said Sarah, putting down her glass of water.</p>
      <p>"Why would you do that?" asked Gertrude.</p>
      <p>"Um…" said Chuck, eyes boggled.</p>
      <p>"It was on my terms, not his," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"She's not like us, Gertrude," said Casey. "Not anymore. Chuck broke the CIA's best agent, made her into a real girl, and now she wants to go play Leave It to Beaver."</p>
      <p>"I'm not the only one," said Sarah, staring at him.</p>
      <p>"Really, John? Is that true?" said Verbanski. "You do seem…different."</p>
      <p>"No," said Casey. "I'm a patriot now, I was a patriot then. You were…whatever you were paid to be, then <em>and</em> now."</p>
      <p>"I was a start-up," said Gertrude. "It's hard to be picky about your clients when you have to make payroll. I'm a lot more choosy now." Her arm moved.</p>
      <p>Suddenly Casey stiffened by her side.</p>
      <p>Gertrude ignored it, addressing Chuck and especially Sarah, "So. An opportunity arose and you took it?" She sounded approving. Casey grunted, trying to move away. "I'm a big believer in taking advantage of opportunities whenever they present themselves."</p>
      <p>Sarah toyed with her glass. "Honestly, I, erm, don't remember. I'd been poisoned, I wasn't thinking straight."</p>
      <p>"We counted back, Casey. Near as we can figure, it was the night she was waiting for me in Prague."</p>
      <p>"When she pushed me out the window? She wasn't–You weren't thinking at all, Charles."</p>
      <p>Gertrude leaned closer. "You pushed him out the window?"</p>
      <p>Sarah remembered the glass breaking. "I guess so. I don't know why. All I can remember is being so angry…"</p>
      <p>"I can understand that." Gertrude looked at Casey. "So it's not just me you have that effect on. What did you do this time?"</p>
      <p>"I didn't do anything," said Casey. "I wasn't even in the room. I came to get Chuck for a mission to England, and there she was."</p>
      <p>"Maybe you should have asked more politely."</p>
      <p>"Who asked? I just gave him the old 'rise and shine'." Casey pounded the table three times. "Charles! Rise and shine! Time to–"</p>
      <p>Suddenly Sarah was in his face, hands curled on his collar. Something liquid spilled into Casey's lap as glass shattered.</p>
      <p>The move caught Chuck by surprise. "Um, sweetie…"</p>
      <p>Sarah didn't hear him. "He…was…<em>sleeping</em>!"</p>
      <p>"Sarah?" said Chuck, putting a hand on her arm. "People are staring."</p>
      <p>"Leave us alone!"</p>
      <p>Casey reached up and gripped Sarah's wrists, pulling them away from his shirt. "Get a hold of yourself, Walker."</p>
      <p>He released her, and Sarah sank back into her chair, resting her aching head on her hands. "I hated you, Casey. Hated. You were everything that was wrong in my life, and Chuck was the only thing that was right."</p>
      <p>"He still is, but I'm not," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"I'm sorry."</p>
      <p>Grunt #1. "Just stop being so emotional, we'll call it even."</p>
      <p>"Shut up."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later that night, at Falcone's private range…</p>
      <p>"I don't want your money."</p>
      <p>Verbanski looked startled. "That's three million dollars in cash," she said, pointing to the large silver case as if Falcone had somehow managed to overlook it.</p>
      <p>"Oh, I'll take it," said Falcone. "I just don't want it." He snapped his fingers, and several henchman revealed themselves, weapons trained on the group of mercenaries stupid enough to allow themselves to be trapped in a concrete cul-de-sac. "What I want is <em>you</em>, Gertrude. Verbanski Corp. has deep pockets, I'm sure they'll pay a lot more than a mere three mil for their CEO back."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Did anyone else notice that Gertrude's FBI-run operation never had an FBI liaison in it?</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Stepping on my own toes a bit. I don't normally have multiple stories running, and I'm trying to avoid posting to both of them on the same day, not sure if that matters to anyone but me. I've noticed that I've once again stepped back in time a little from the ending of the previous chapter, showing the same period from a different perspective. I'm not sure if that will be a regular thing, I'm feeling my way along in this story. I'm basically reversing the order, putting Kept Man to Goodbye first, with the rest of the season coming after, but I'll be trying to keep to the episodes as they are, the way I did with S3.</p>
      <p>A lot of Kept Man deals with a B plot, in which Jeff discovers the spy team and Morgan and Devon mislead them, one of the best uses of the Buy More in several seasons, and a story I was actually able to use, after a fashion. One of the reasons for the overlap mentioned above is that this plot is more prominent in this segment of the canon episode and I needed to tell a different story in its place.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>What's in Miami?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Don't become Volkoff while you're destroying her."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Are you seeing a plus sign?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Leave us alone!"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the hotel room, monitoring the dinner...</p>
      <p>His voice over the phone was both arrogant and demanding. "Agent McHugh, your report?"</p>
      <p>Alex turned up the volume on the recorder. If the quality of the room service was any indication, the food in the restaurant had to be spectacular, and no one was wasting any time right now talking. The blips and blops on the oscilloscope matched the clinking of silverware against porcelain perfectly. "I could be home right now, watching <em>Downton Abbey</em> with my dad. It's movie night, you know."</p>
      <p>"That's not a proper report, Agent McHugh."</p>
      <p>"You're not a proper superior, Agent Johnson," she replied. "You know as well as I do that this is a need-to-know situation, and you don't need to know."</p>
      <p>"It's my operation!"</p>
      <p>She knew that, and in addition to listening to her team drink wine and negotiate arms deals, she was analyzing that plan to death, looking for pinch points as the FBI, and more importantly her Dad, had taught her. "You know what happens to agents who get territorial, don't you, Johnson?"</p>
      <p>"<em>A toast to the happy couple,"</em> said the speaker.</p>
      <p>Johnson breathed loudly into the phone, while she counted slowly. "Just don't screw it up, McHugh. I take a lot of pride in my work."</p>
      <p>She rolled her eyes, unseen. <em>And of course I don't</em>. "Duly noted."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>John and Gertrude watched their younger counterparts as they left the table, Sarah with a sudden blinding headache and Chuck providing support and guidance.</p>
      <p>"Poisoned?" asked Gertrude.</p>
      <p>"Not anymore," said Casey, remembering the same wild look in her eyes, when she fought him in that hall. "Bit of a flashback, if you ask me."</p>
      <p>"Will it affect the mission?"</p>
      <p>Casey curled his lip at the lack of sentiment, mercenary or otherwise. <em>She's my partner, dammit!</em> The best spy he'd ever worked with, married to the second best spy he'd ever worked with. "No. She's a professional, they both are. You'll see." Suddenly Casey realized he was being insensitive to Gertrude's concerns. "Don't worry, it's a side-issue. You'll get paid, whatever happens." He turned to signal a waiter for some boxes.</p>
      <p>Verbanski stabbed her fork into her entrée so hard she almost shattered the plate under it. "Thank God for that."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later that night, back in the hotel room, while Alex is monitoring the meet…</p>
      <p>"Good evening, Agent McHugh. How's the mission going?"</p>
      <p><em>Not another one. Doesn't anyone think I can do this? </em>"You know I can't tell you that, General."</p>
      <p>"I do, and I'm glad you do as well, Agent," said Beckman pleasantly. "However, <em>Alex</em>, I'm calling about your other mission. The one I trust no one had to waste breath briefing you about."</p>
      <p>Alex sat up straighter in her chair, not that the General could see her, but still…"No, General, uh, ma'am." No way she was calling her Diane.</p>
      <p>"How did she take the news?"</p>
      <p>"Um, pretty well, General," said Alex, trying not to wince as she said it.</p>
      <p>"Do you really think it's wise to lie to a superior officer, even if she isn't in your chain of command?"</p>
      <p><em>Gee, let me think…</em>"No? General?"</p>
      <p>"So perhaps you'd like to reconsider your answer."</p>
      <p>Alex reconsidered her answer. "She might have been more surprised if I'd hit her in the face with a fresh fish, General, but I doubt it."</p>
      <p>"That's better. Thank you, Agent."</p>
      <p>"And she also seems to have had a flashback, not sure if it's related."</p>
      <p>Beckman's voice lost its amused tone, became all business. "What kind? What about?"</p>
      <p>"She pushed my dad out a window, while she was poisoned, or something?" Alex would be practicing her interrogation skills on somebody real soon. "My dad pounded the table and next thing I know she's shouting at him to leave them alone."</p>
      <p>"Leave them alone?" said Beckman, in the tone of someone taking notes.</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am. She came back from the dinner early, with a headache, or at least that's what she said. It went away pretty quickly, if you ask me. When she rejoined the team she seemed fine."</p>
      <p>"When I want your opinion on any subject, Agent McHugh, you will know it," said the General severely. "Agent Bartowski deserves nothing less than your full support, your father would be the first to tell you that."</p>
      <p>And her mother, and her cousins…"Yes, General," she replied crisply, as annoyed with herself for her slip as the General probably was.</p>
      <p>"You may return to your duties now." Both of them.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On the way to the meet that Alex is monitoring...</p>
      <p>"I can't believe you're accepting a meet in an unsecured location," grumbled Casey, lugging Gertrude's 'checkbook' with both hands.</p>
      <p>"This isn't my first weapons deal, John," said Verbanski. She rapped on the door.</p>
      <p>"Maybe not, but from the look of this guy it might be your last."</p>
      <p>The door opened from within. "Good evening, Miss Verbanski, and guests," said Falcone with what he probably thought was charm. "Nice sweater," he said as they entered. Chuck and Sarah scoped the place out, while Casey clearly had his boss' well-being in mind.</p>
      <p>Gertrude ran a proprietary hand down Casey's cashmere-covered arm. "At Verbanski Corp., we have a 'work hard, play hard, dress soft' policy."</p>
      <p>Falcone kept his distance. "Business must be booming if you can afford to dress your security that well."</p>
      <p>Gertrude smiled about something. "Speaking of booming…"</p>
      <p>"Just show us the guns," finished Casey.</p>
      <p>Falcone led them to his 'private range', a concrete wall with some circles drawn on it. He had a table set up, with a case, and from the case he withdrew the weapon. Small and boxy, perfect for terrorists and criminals. Casey wondered why someone like Verbanski would want this, as he snatched it from Falcone's hands.</p>
      <p>"Where are the specs?" he asked.</p>
      <p>"Specs?" said Falcone.</p>
      <p>"Our people have studied the design, John," said Gertrude.</p>
      <p>"Then let one of them test this thing," said Casey. "I'm not pulling that trigger until I put it together myself, so I can be sure it won't blow up in our faces while Chuckles over there walks away with your dough."</p>
      <p>Gertrude stepped back. "I pay him for his expertise," she said to Falcone. "Not his manners." As if she couldn't have field-stripped the unit herself.</p>
      <p>Casey popped out a panel, showing the words 'Safety Off'. Damn lab geeks. Who needs a screen to tell them the safety's on? He snapped it back in and continued his exercise. When he was satisfied, he picked up the unit and aimed at the circle, pulling the trigger.</p>
      <p>Concrete chips sprayed impressively.</p>
      <p>"Well, John?" asked Verbanski.</p>
      <p>"It's a nice toy," he said, "Not worth what he's asking, though."</p>
      <p>Gertrude turned back to Falcone. "You're going to have to do better than this if you want my money."</p>
      <p>"I don't want your money," said Falcone, snapping his fingers.</p>
      <p>One quick and dirty gun deal gone bad later…</p>
      <p>Chuck and Sarah raised their hands as Falcone's men pointed their own Aegises their way.</p>
      <p>Casey growled. <em>That's what this was all about? A kidnapping?</em> No one kidnapped John Casey's primary! He lifted his 'nice toy' and pulled the trigger. His Aegis clicked.</p>
      <p>Falcone smirked at Casey's look of surprise. "Apparently your boss didn't tell you that the Aegis' safety feature won't let it be fired at another Aegis with the same code."</p>
      <p>Casey pulled out the screen, and saw the words 'Safety On'.</p>
      <p>"Prevents 'friendly-fire' incidents," said Falcone, with a laugh. "Ingenius, no?"</p>
      <p>"No," said Casey. "Two reasons. First, if I can't shoot at you, then you can't shoot at me, so you're all unarmed."</p>
      <p>Falcone's men looked at their guns in shock, not realizing that only Casey was protected. Chuck and Sarah dropped their arms, pointing them at Falcone's men before flipping up their hands. The tranq shooters in their sleeves each fired at a different man, dropping them like sacks of meat to the concrete floor.</p>
      <p>"Second," said Casey, as if nothing had happened, "I just changed the code." He pointed the gun at Falcone, whose own weapon wasn't even aimed. He hadn't really, but saying so was as good as doing it in these situations.</p>
      <p>"Well, Rock," said Verbanski snidely, walking up to him, "I think your price just dropped, to free." She punched him and he fell. Casey sneered at the glass jaw.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked around. "Well, that wasn't so hard. We got Falcone, his men, and his weapons, just like–"</p>
      <p>"Don't!" shouted Verbanski.</p>
      <p>"That." Chuck snapped his fingers.</p>
      <p>BOOM!</p>
      <p>Doors blew inward, not quite as hard as if they'd been kicked by Buffy the Vampire Slayer but not bad for high explosives. A crowd of armed and armored men swarmed in, with no one on their feet to point their weapons at.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked at his hand, still in post-snap state. "Oops."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Well, how was I supposed to know she had her own strike team assembled?" said Chuck indignantly, as they rode the elevator to the command center.</p>
      <p>"I don't know, Chuck," said Casey. "Because she's a <em>mercenary</em>, maybe?"</p>
      <p>"I'd think that a mercenary would be even more interested in cost-effective ways to handle these little issues, not less."</p>
      <p>"Nah, they just add it to the bill," said Casey dismissively. "It's taxpayer dollars <em>I</em> worry about." The elevator dinged, and the kept it quiet until they got to the room. "Hey, Alex."</p>
      <p>She waved at them, but her attention was on her headphones, not them. "She's interrogating him now."</p>
      <p>Casey hurried over, grabbing another set of headphones as he sat with his daughter.</p>
      <p>Chuck and Sarah went to the bed, still a bit disarrayed from her previous visit. "You feeling all right?" asked Chuck as she settled herself again in the same spot.</p>
      <p>She waved a hand vaguely at her face. "The Aegis, the doorbusters. They just brought my headache back, that's all."</p>
      <p>They had painkillers. "You want something for that?"</p>
      <p>"Not until I talk to my obstetrician, no."</p>
      <p>That was fast. "You have an obstetrician?"</p>
      <p>"I do now."</p>
      <p>"Whoever heard of an OB-GYN with clearance?"</p>
      <p>"We'll be talking about babies, Chuck, not logistics." Not that those were as different as one might think.</p>
      <p>"What about your explosion-related headache?"</p>
      <p>"Obviously I'll blame that on my overly-attentive husband."</p>
      <p>"Here, babe, let me carry that heavy dish for you," said Chuck, trying and failing completely to capture Devon's laid-back tone. "Hey babe, let me get the door for you. Hey babe, let me carry you, the mother of my baby shouldn't have to walk all the way out to the car…"</p>
      <p>Sarah burst out laughing. "Yeah. Like that."</p>
      <p>Thank God for bad examples. "Ask Ellie for her 'caves and fields' speech, then feel free to hit me with it as needed."</p>
      <p>"I've already got a remedy in mind."</p>
      <p>Uh-oh. She had spent quite a lot of time in his mother's company. "There's a prescription for that?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah." She reached up a hand to touch his face. "Stars. Lots and lots of lucky stars, for me to thank each and every day of my life, that you're in it."</p>
      <p>Chuck laid a gentle hand on her belly. "Save some for me," he said, leaning down to kiss her.</p>
      <p>"Oo!" said Casey loudly, and they looked over at the comm equipment, but no one was looking at them.</p>
      <p>"That's gonna leave a mark," said Alex to her father, and they toasted each other with bottles of whatever non-alcoholic beverage was in the fridge.</p>
      <p>"Do we want to know?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"I know I don't," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked down at his spread hand. "Is that the way we want to raise our kids?"</p>
      <p>Sarah clasped her hands together over his. "It's not like Casey had anything to do with her upbringing, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"You're not cheering me up here, Sarah." Please don't let it be genetic.</p>
      <p>"Don't start spiraling, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"I'm not spiraling, you're spiraling."</p>
      <p>"You're both spiraling," said Casey, tugging the headphones from his ears and glaring at them. "You're ruining a perfectly good interrogation with all your maudlin whining. If I'd thought Kath would raise any children we might have together to be creatures I couldn't stand to have around, I wouldn't have chosen her to have those children in the first place. Get me?" He put the 'phones back on and settled in to listen.</p>
      <p>Brown eyes looked into blue. Their child had two spies for parents. "I'm still holding out for a beautiful blonde nerd."</p>
      <p>"We're doomed," said Sarah.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <em>A young god walked casually down the sidewalk, as tall as his father, as blond as his mother. Blue eyes scanned the surroundings. "I'm making the drop now," he said to no one. For some reason he sounded a lot like Devon.</em>
      </p>
      <p>
        <em>He bent to check the headlines in a newspaper box, smoothly sliding a card in between the machines. Whistling, he walked away.</em>
      </p>
      <p>
        <em>Two men walked up to the machines, taking the card from its hiding spot, details for a meeting. "Excellent," said the skinny one. "Agent Bartowski is as good as ours."</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>He snapped awake, nameless dread receding. Comfortable darkness. Soft and warm. It smelled like Sarah. Long fingers flexed. Felt like Sarah.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <em>The moving train swayed on the tracks, and she lost her balance. Her belly hit a low rail and exploded in pain.</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Oh," Sarah moaned, not a happy moan.</p>
      <p>Warm body rolled out from under questing fingers. <em>No! Don't go!</em> Stumbling footsteps sounded, racing to the bathroom.</p>
      <p>"Smooth moves, Romeo," said Casey. "How'd you ever manage to have a kid, anyway?"</p>
      <p>Chuck rolled over, throwing off the light blanket he couldn't remember putting over them. "Casey?" Someone made a loud retching noise in the bathroom. "Sarah?"</p>
      <p>"Don't just lie there, Chuck," said Casey, nudging the bed with his knee. "Get up and hold the little woman's hair."</p>
      <p>"What if she's, like…<em>doing</em> something?"</p>
      <p>"Then I'd give her points for efficiency." Casey rolled his eyes. "You don't have to actually do it, genius, you just have to try. You knock, she says she'll kill you if you even touch the knob, you back off and order some crackers from room service." He shrugged. "Simple enough."</p>
      <p>Chuck rolled sideways, shambling toward the bathroom. He knocked. "Sweetie?"</p>
      <p>"You try to come in and I'll kill you!"</p>
      <p>Chuck took a step back. "Right. Crackers." He went back into the room, only to find Casey and Alex sacked out where he and Sarah had been, both of them snoring. "That was quick."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski sat in the front of her Zodiac. Falcone had given up his supplier's position in the Everglades, just as she'd expected. The incursion was proceeding just as she'd planned. The inclusion of John Casey and his team, not as planned. Not even as hoped.</p>
      <p>Seeing him again had been a pleasant surprise, surprisingly pleasant, and Gertrude wasn't the sort of woman who liked surprises. Still the same…<em>"I'm a patriot."</em> She'd been a patriot too, once. Lucky him, to not have a country collapse under his feet, its uniform worse than meaningless.</p>
      <p>What else was there for her, other than to become a mercenary? Certainly swearing allegiance to some other country's flag would be the worst sort of disloyalty. John didn't seem to realize that. She hoped, mostly, soldier to soldier, that he never would, never be forced out of the uniform he so loved to wear.</p>
      <p>A small, malicious part of her had taken some pleasure in doing so temporarily, though. The sweater had been presented as cover, the only way he'd take it, and his unhappiness to be seen wearing her 'colors', even for a little while, was a nice bit of payback for all his snotty remarks.</p>
      <p>He was different, though, and something in her liked the difference. The narrow-minded patriot whose gun she'd taken in Minsk would never have responded so gently to Sarah's assault on him at the dinner table that previous night. The Casey she knew had no interest in 'ladyfeelings', not even during their one post-mission tryst, way back when.</p>
      <p>Maybe he'd learned a new trick, the old dog.</p>
      <p>Then it blew up in her face, as she might have known it would. Only a fool tried to force John Casey to do anything. <em>You'll get paid.</em> As if money was the only thing she…cared for.</p>
      <p>Falcone took the brunt of that…disappointment, just as well. Was Casey listening in? She hoped so, and went a bit further than her usual. When Falcone (eventually) cracked, she (eventually) got around to informing her government liaison, only to find that Casey had gone to sleep long before. Then the little wifey was puking again and Gertrude had no interest in pursuing that conversation.</p>
      <p>She needed somebody to hit, and Falcone wasn't going to cut it anymore. Training for the mission also wouldn't do, not if she wanted any of her team to actually be able to go on the mission.</p>
      <p>To hell with it, to hell with John. Falcone's supplier, Pedro St. Germaine, had a sizable bounty on his head already. She could collect that instead. Make the FBI happy without having to deal with Casey and his people. She'd just have to find some other little project to put into her 'charitable contributions' folder.</p>
      <p>The Zodiac bumped against soft ground and she trampled those thoughts into the mud. Her team fanned out behind her, eyes alert, scanning the trees, the bushes. Nothing and no one challenged them as they advanced, until she got to the treeline and the lights beyond it.</p>
      <p>St. Germaine's compound was the usual collection of shacks and hovels, minimal shelter for the men moving crates of weaponry around. Abandon it and the whole place would be reclaimed by the swamp in days. The main 'road' ran north-south between the huts, and the loading jetty was to the west, making her incursion point clear. "We'll attack from the East," she told her lieutenant. "Take St. Germaine alive." For a second she amused herself with an image of her parading St. Germaine past Casey.</p>
      <p>Gunfire in the distance.</p>
      <p>No. Not in the distance. Behind them! She dropped by sheer reflex. Troops, her troops, spun and died all around her.</p>
      <p>Then she was alone.</p>
      <p>Men approached her position, not bothering to conceal their presence anymore, and how had they done it in the first place? Verbanski rose to her knees, surrendering her pistol before they did something more drastic than merely take it from her. She stayed down, rather than give anyone the satisfaction of knocking her down a second time.</p>
      <p>A tall man in a bright red shirt appeared from between two trees, carrying a shotgun. "Figured it would only be a matter of time before that rat Falcone sold me out."</p>
      <p>"Everyone talks, Pedro."</p>
      <p>St. Germaine laughed. "That's right, <em>Gertrude</em>, they do. Which is why I have this location for them to send people to. We even do some business here."</p>
      <p>A trap, and here she was, no strike team to get her out of this one. She'd made a mistake in a business where you only get one, and now she was about to die for John Casey. "You just gonna wave that thing around or do you plan to use it?" she asked, hoping to provoke him into making it quick.</p>
      <p>"Use this on the head of a billion-dollar-a-year company?" One of his men pulled out a zip-tie as she was lifted to her feet. "You're more valuable to me alive. For now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I wish I could have come up with a better dream sequence for Sarah, but there wasn't anything I could modify for the purpose, so I made it up and kept it brief.</p>
    </div>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
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    <div>
      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Even though I'm doing this whole season under one title, I'll be keeping to the four chapters per episode format, so this is the last part of the revision of Kept Man.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Will it affect the mission?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I just changed the code."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Stars. Lots and lots of lucky stars."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>That was quick."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey woke to the sounds of quiet purpose. Chuck was monitoring the electronics, while Sarah was busy on another computer, with running commentary. "Your mother would have had a field day with this. I found one pinch-point Alex didn't, and I'm sure Mary could find more."</p>
      <p>"Are they fixable in time?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"I can tweak the ones I found," said Sarah. "She made the manpower requests, I don't know if the people are available, though."</p>
      <p>"What's going on?" said Casey, rolling off the bed.</p>
      <p>No one looked up but neither seemed surprised at his sudden entry into their conversation. "Verbanski missed her check-in," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Casey checked the clock. "It's not time yet."</p>
      <p>"Her check-in with her own company," said Chuck. "They called us. Apparently she decided to change the plan and go it alone. Took all of her people, launched an early strike, and that's the last they know."</p>
      <p>"Doesn't sound like Gertrude at all," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, well, it gets worse," said Sarah. "She took their entire team. Without us she had no men to spare. Verbanski Corp. is requesting our assistance."</p>
      <p>Casey's lip curled in confusion, rather than his usual disdain. "They're what?" Security companies gave assistance, they didn't ask for it. "This makes no sense."</p>
      <p>"What did you say to her last night, Casey?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Nothing, Bartowski," snapped Casey. "She was worried that you two, sorry, you <em>three</em>, would blow the mission. I told her you wouldn't, that you were pros, and that she didn't have anything to worry about, payment-wise."</p>
      <p>"So basically, she insulted us," said Sarah, knowing how Casey would take Verbanski's remark. "And you insulted her back."</p>
      <p>"How can you insult a mercenary?" asked Casey, confused. "Bounce the check?"</p>
      <p>"From a distance?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p><em>Men. </em>"You're such an idiot, Casey. Did you manage to notice even one of the signals she was throwing your way all day?"</p>
      <p>"What are you talking about, Bartowski?" said Casey, leaning on the table ominously. "Gertrude Verbanski doesn't 'send signals', she shoots off flares. I'd have to be the most clueless, insensitive, uncaring–" He broke off at the feel of Chuck's hand on his arm.</p>
      <p>"You know, Sarah, you're right, this cashmere is really soft. Gonna be a bitch to keep clean, though, all that dry-cleaning…"</p>
      <p>"Hands off, Bartowski," said Casey, pulling back. "Unfortunately, I <em>know</em> where they've been." He looked down at his arm, then up at Sarah.</p>
      <p>Sarah made a <em>ta-da</em> gesture but otherwise said nothing.</p>
      <p>Both men adopted near-identical expressions of disgust, but Casey was actually inside the damned thing. He pulled the sweater over his head and launched it across the room, where it ended, coincidentally, in a garbage can.</p>
      <p>"Good shot," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"I wasn't aiming."</p>
      <p>"Just trying to build up your sniper cred, Casey," said Chuck innocently, "You know, before you go all private-sector on us–"</p>
      <p>"She's not trying to hire a sniper, Chuck. The only thing she's interested in is him."</p>
      <p>"Casey?" said Chuck in amazement. "Physically?"</p>
      <p>Casey looked annoyed. "Sexually."</p>
      <p>"And the last time you even <em>met</em> her was in '95?"</p>
      <p>"You ever have sex with someone who just tried to kill you?" asked Casey. Chuck looked on in horror as the big men's eyes got all unfocused. "It was incredible." His face hardened. "But I'm no one's lapdog."</p>
      <p>"That's the spirit, Casey. Focus on the mission."</p>
      <p>"What <em>is</em> the mission?" Casey looked around. "Where's Alex?"</p>
      <p>"Went for a run," said Sarah. "She said she wanted to get out of this room for a while, and could we please monitor the equipment for her. She's on her way back." The phone rang. "Get that, will you, Casey? And remember to press the yellow button."</p>
      <p>Casey picked up the phone, saw Verbanski's name on the screen, with a background photo of her looking all armed and dangerous. It was a good look for her. He pressed the damned yellow damned button. "Miss Verbanski?" he said, dangerously polite.</p>
      <p>A man's voice came from the speaker. "I have your boss, so listen up."</p>
      <p><em>She's not my boss. </em>"You think you captured the world's most dangerous mercenary?" growled Casey, no longer polite.</p>
      <p>"Yeah," said the guy. "Yeah, I did."</p>
      <p>Casey said "Tied up, waiting for rescue?" with a double helping of sarcasm.</p>
      <p>"Again, correct." Whoever this was, probably that Pedro guy, he tried to take control of the conversation. "You want to see her alive again, you'll bring me ten million in cash, by tonight."</p>
      <p>"Nice touch, loser."</p>
      <p>"John, I do not authorize any payments, do you hear me?" shouted Gertrude in the background. "I'll handle this myself!"</p>
      <p>The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed from the phone. "Bring me my money." The call ended.</p>
      <p>"You get that?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>Chuck sighed a negative. "I can tell you it's in the Everglades."</p>
      <p>"We knew that already. What about the tracker?"</p>
      <p>"He must have pulled the battery, there's nothing."</p>
      <p>The door slammed open. "What the hell was that?" asked Alex, standing there in her running outfit, not breathing hard.</p>
      <p>"Ransom demand," said Casey automatically. "Wait a minute, how'd you even know–?"</p>
      <p>Alex walked up to the table, and snagged her phone. "It's the newest model. Some genius had the idea to put comm broadcasting ability into it." She touched her ear. "I heard everything on the way up. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to call this in." She walked to the bathroom and shut the door.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey was first out of the boat, because he was a Marine, and Marines did that. The coast appeared to be clear, and why wouldn't it be? "Give me the box," he said quietly, and Chuck and Sarah lifted it up. "Carefully."</p>
      <p>They passed the large case over to him, before getting out of the boat themselves. Casey unzipped his suit, to reveal…another suit. He was a corporate flunky now, the perfect disguise. "Remember," he said to Chuck, "You've got five minutes after he opens the box, before all hell breaks loose. The code is 'open up'."</p>
      <p>"Walk slowly," said Sarah, nodding as she inspected her weapon. "Finding a vantage point in this place won't be easy."</p>
      <p>Chuck backed away. "I'll meet you inside." He would rather have stayed, but Casey would soon be standing in a building full of guns, and really, he did not want to be there for that.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude hadn't made much headway getting herself loose, there was always someone standing behind her. At least they hadn't shoved that piece of cloth back in her mouth, not that there was anything she wanted to say to soon-to-be-dead men. John Casey would make quick work of these idiots.</p>
      <p>"I'm here to make a trade with St. Germaine."</p>
      <p><em>What the hell is he doing?</em> Unarmed? Nice suit, though. And where on Earth did he get ten million from so quickly?</p>
      <p>The goons all walked away from her, eager to get closer to the loot, and she was finally free to go for the blade in her belt. John dumped the box on a table and opened it at Pedro's gesture. When it didn't explode, Casey was pushed away from the table as Pedro took over. The first few bundles went into his own pockets. He started counting the rest, as if it mattered how much they'd really brought.</p>
      <p>John ended up by Gertrude, on one knee. "Are you all right, Miss Verbanski?" he asked, the loyal flunky.</p>
      <p>"John, you shouldn't have come," she said, playing along. "You know they're just gonna kill us both."</p>
      <p>"I know," said Casey, his eyes flicking side to side, looking for targets out of the corners of his eyes. "I asked for the job. I couldn't let you die alone. I couldn't let you die without knowing how I felt."</p>
      <p><em>What kind of game is this?</em> "John, this is hardly the time or place–"</p>
      <p>Well, she was half right. He could have picked a lot of better places, but the time was just about perfect. "We have no more time, so the place will have to do. I need to <em>open up</em> to you." He paused, as if waiting for something to happen.<em><br/></em>"Please don't."</p>
      <p><em>What's keeping Sarah?</em> "It's too late, Miss Verbanski…Gertrude. It's been too late for years."</p>
      <p>She smiled down at him. "Let me guess. '95?"</p>
      <p>He nodded, looking anywhere but at her. "Yeah. A long time. <em>Too long</em>."</p>
      <p>Something was definitely up. She did her bit to keep the charade going. "Maybe you're just too strong for your own good."</p>
      <p>"I think opportunity wanted to use the front door, but mine was too well defended. So it had to use the <em>back window</em> instead."</p>
      <p>"And now here we are."</p>
      <p>Something crashed through the back window. Bullets ripped across the floor, toward the money. Pedro pushed a few of his men in harm's way and fled, leaving the money and the box for a later time. Casey dove for a gun as Chuck took a knife to Verbanski's ropes. "What the hell are you doing here, Charles? I told you, this place is a bloodbath waiting to happen."</p>
      <p>Verbanski grabbed another gun.</p>
      <p>"Sarah got flash-banged, we had to switch." Chuck sniffed, and went to the table.</p>
      <p>"She was supposed to provide cover for our escape," said Casey, taking pot-shots at the low-hanging fruit outside. "What are <em>you</em> gonna do?"</p>
      <p>Chuck slammed the lid closed on the box. "I'm distracting the enemy so that we can make our escape before, and I quote, 'all hell breaks loose'."</p>
      <p>"Time to go," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"We've got no cover," shouted Verbanski.</p>
      <p>"You've got the Aegis," said Chuck. "They can't shoot you without letting you shoot them first."</p>
      <p>"Believe me, sweetheart," said Casey, "We really need to go <em>now</em>."</p>
      <p>Together they ran from the building. The bad guys' guns clicked. Casey and Verbanski fired at them, using the simple trick of not shooting at them but at the boxes they hid behind. Strangely, the thugs being shot at didn't notice this tactic, or try to copy it. Like the idiots they were, they ran away, and of course the Aegis had no problem firing at a weapon pointing the other way.</p>
      <p>"A good show," yelled Pedro, stepping out with his shotgun ready. Casey and Verbanski tried to shoot, but they were out, and Pedro was too far away for Chuck to get physical, far enough that the blast from his gun would hit them all. "Very entertaining bit of comedy, but now you're cancelled. This gun ain't got no safety." He took aim at Verbanski, standing between her rescuers. His finger flexed on the trigger.</p>
      <p>Scorch marks appeared on his shirt, and on his pants, wherever he had pockets. He shouted in sudden pain.</p>
      <p>Just then, Sarah arrived with transport, turning Pedro into roadkill. Or maybe not. No one stopped to check. Her teammates jumped on board.</p>
      <p>"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you, Charles?"</p>
      <p>No windshield wipers, but there was no time to turn around anyway. "Ran into a few obstacles." Putting it in reverse, Sarah drove back over Pedro and right out the gate. Backwards. At night. In a swamp.</p>
      <p>"You can slow down now," said Gertrude.</p>
      <p>"I don't think so."</p>
      <p>Night turned to day, only louder, but Sarah had her head turned away as she drove, and sped up. "That's better."</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"My," said Gertrude.</p>
      <p>"Sarah," said Chuck, "Hurry."</p>
      <p>The truck drove off the land and down into the water, as a sheet of flame and superheated air rolled out into the space where they had been. Trees burned as the group climbed out of the sinking truck, heading back to shore.</p>
      <p>"What was that?" asked Gertrude. <em>And where can I </em>get<em> one?</em></p>
      <p>"That was a ten million dollar money bomb," said Casey happily. "Opened up in the middle of a fuel and ammo dump."</p>
      <p>Verbanski's eyes went wide with horror. "That wasn't real money–?"</p>
      <p>"Of course not," said the big man. "But nobody does fake money better than the people who make the real money. The paper's highly flammable, the ink reacts to oxygen and combusts, while the case makes C4 look like Play-Doh™."</p>
      <p>The fires burned only on the edges, the force of the explosion snuffing them out closer to ground zero. The bare circle was probably visible from orbit. Gertrude sagged. "No bounty tonight."</p>
      <p>"Relax," said Casey, untying their little boat, untouched behind an embankment. "You're on the clock again."</p>
      <p>Verbanski grunted thoughtfully. "There's still the other part of Pedro's organization. This was just a trap."</p>
      <p>"Alex is on it," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"You found it already?"</p>
      <p>"Chuck did. He can get a signal off a bran muffin, given half a chance."</p>
      <p>She looked over at the younger couple contemplatively. "Don't even think about it," said Casey. "He's taken."</p>
      <p>She let it go. The bounty would have been better, but subtract the costs of the rescue and it came out pretty much the same. Not to mention the things money couldn't buy. "'Sweetheart'?"</p>
      <p>Casey pulled the rope the wrong way, and the knot fouled. "Heat of the moment," he mumbled.</p>
      <p>Gertrude stomped over to him, squelching wetly through the mud. "How much of that did you mean back there?"</p>
      <p>John pretended to fumble with the knot. "How much of it did you like?"</p>
      <p>She reached out a hand and caught his jaw, firm as if carved by Michelangelo himself, and made him look at her. "I liked an awful lot."</p>
      <p>He reached up a hand to touch hers, but didn't try to pull it away. "Well…then…that's how much I meant it."</p>
      <p>Verbanski pulled him in for a take-no-prisoners kiss.</p>
      <p>"Ugh," said Sarah, not even trying to imitate one of Casey's grunts.</p>
      <p>Chuck laughed with her. "Yeah." He pulled her out of sight behind a tree, and into his own arms. "Ladyfeelings."</p>
      <p>"I thought we liked ladyfeelings," said Sarah. She caught her fingers in his curly, animal-shaped hair and took a few prisoners of her own.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The skiff purred across the water to the launch site. Casey and Verbanski treated each others' injuries up front. Chuck and Sarah, injury-less, sat in the back, piloting the boat and trying not to look.</p>
      <p>The radio started speaking with Alex' voice. "Team B, are you there?"</p>
      <p>Casey picked it up. "Roger that, Team Lead. Extraction was successful, no casualties. All present and accounted for."</p>
      <p>"You might have said something."</p>
      <p>"Thought you might be busy."</p>
      <p>"We were," said Alex. "Just mopping up now. Pedro St. Germaine is officially out business. You guys get him?"</p>
      <p>"Some of him, but I think the river washed most of it off." Verbanski smiled, the only one who appreciated Casey's unique style of humor.</p>
      <p>Alex may have also, but she was Agent McHugh tonight. "You were supposed to take him into custody."</p>
      <p>"We didn't have a bucket. Chuck set him on fire and Sarah ran him over with a Humvee. Kind'a limited our options a bit. We did him a favor and left him about ten meters from the box."</p>
      <p>"And they call <em>you</em> the violent one?"</p>
      <p>Casey winked at his partners. "I know, right?"</p>
      <p>"We saw the fireball," said Alex. "It was very pretty."</p>
      <p><em>That's my girl. </em>"I think the grill on the truck we stole was singed, but you'd have to pull it out of the river to make sure."</p>
      <p>Alex' voice carried no hint of interest, or humor. "As long as you all got out safely."</p>
      <p>Some calls are just too close. "Understood."</p>
      <p>"I'll see you back at the hotel, B-Lead."</p>
      <p>"Affirmative."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Packing up in Miami…</p>
      <p>"So…where are you off to next?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>"Dresden," said Gertrude, breaking her own rules about operational security.</p>
      <p>Casey grunted approval. "I like Dresden. Harsh."</p>
      <p>"And cold," said Gertrude. "Let's not forget cold. If you were there, we could…tend each others' wounds again. Or something."</p>
      <p>Casey grimaced. Or maybe he smiled. It was kind of hard to tell. "Sounds good, but we kind of have a war on…"</p>
      <p>Her eyes lit up. "Anything I can help with?"</p>
      <p>"A <em>spy</em> war," he clarified.</p>
      <p>The world's most dangerous mercenary didn't pout, exactly. "Not a lot of violence in those."</p>
      <p>Casey sighed too. "Not if you do it right. Not until the end."</p>
      <p>"Our contract ends in two months," said Gertrude hopefully.</p>
      <p>"We're under the gun, may not be able to wait that long." With a nod of his head he indicated the room Chuck and Sarah had fled to.</p>
      <p>Gertrude nodded. "Understood. Well, until then…" she went to a closet and pulled out a hanger with a garment bag on it.</p>
      <p>"Not another one."</p>
      <p>"Relax, you big baby. I knew the sweater wasn't your thing."</p>
      <p>"Sorry about the trash can," said Casey. "I really wasn't aiming."</p>
      <p>She held out the bag. "Try this on for size."</p>
      <p>He unzipped the bag and revealed a Verbanski Corp. official bulletproof vest. With the logo and everything. He growled appreciatively.</p>
      <p>Gertrude smiled. "For when I'm not there to do the job myself."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck was saving off the data files when he found it. "Sarah?" he said. "What's this?"</p>
      <p>Sarah came up behind him and looked at the screen. Her hands settled on his shoulders. "You know me," she said, with a hint of embarrassment. "I like to plan ahead."</p>
      <p>He pointed at the screen, with a list of male names. "For six sons?" He reached up to touch her hands.</p>
      <p>"I never planned for <em>any</em> sons," whispered Sarah. "Never expected them, never hoped for them. And now…here I am. I have a husband, a house. A baby."</p>
      <p>He tilted his head back, looking up into her smiling, tear-streaked face. "A normal life."</p>
      <p>Her face settled, firmed, and for a second he saw Agent Walker staring down at him. "Not yet," she said. Then she was his Sarah again. "But soon."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Eventually, back in Washington…</p>
      <p>Morgan tried, he really did, but the stupid champagne cork just would not–</p>
      <p>Alex grabbed the bottle and whacked it against the table. <em>Pop!</em> One of the waiters caught the cork before it could do any damage, but no one noticed.</p>
      <p>Morgan took the bottle smoothly, and poured for them both. "Here's to you," he said when he was finished, lifting his glass. "And a very successful first mission."</p>
      <p>Alex tasted her champagne, and said, "Alright, Morgan. Out with it."</p>
      <p>"Moi?" he said in faux-surprise. "Out with what?"</p>
      <p>"You've been looking like the cat who swallowed the canary since I got back."</p>
      <p>"Before that, actually, you just weren't here to see it. And, as it turns out, I do have some news of my own, not as big as yours, of course–" he put his hand over hers and shook it gently "–but still pretty big to those of us in this particular small pond. You remember our trip to Vail, all those parties we went to and the cards I handed out? Well it turns out at least one of those cards made its way into the right hands. We got a visit from a genuine celebrity. Bo Derek was right here! In my restaurant! Just last night."</p>
      <p>Alex looked confused. "Bo Derek? Have I heard of her?"</p>
      <p>Much as Morgan wished Chuck and his team could be here to share her glory, he was glad his best friend was off saving the world somewhere and didn't hear that. "That poster in my closet that you think I don't know you know about? That's Bo Derek. And she was right here!" said Morgan in triumph. "And she even said that she'd be back, with friends. She wanted to meet me, personally!" He beamed. "How cool is that?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>The scene where Chuck looks up and sees Agent Walker looking down at him is <em><strong>not</strong></em> a reference to Amnesia Sarah. She's just got a very determined look on her face.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Vail of Tears</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> Here begins my rewrite of Chuck vs. Bo. It's a good thing I'm not trying to come up with titles for each individual episode anymore, I don't know what I'd call this one. Thanks to tut1971 for helping me with a couple of scenes.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>How can you insult a mercenary?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>The code is 'open up'."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I have a husband, a house."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>How cool is that?"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Ellie was never so happy to see anything as when she stepped through the doorway into her own house, carrying her child in her arms. Her parents were there, they had returned, now it was her brother who was gone. "Welcome home, Clara."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, it's a stellar sign, isn't it?" said Devon, holding the door open for her. He pointed, and she saw a banner over her favorite chair, that said <em>Welcome Home, Clara</em> in bright colors. The whole room had been cleaned, and food prepared. "Nice work, Mom and Dad B."</p>
      <p>"Thank you, dear," said Mary, "But it was pleasure, not work." She looked at her daughter and granddaughter. "I'd ask you how you're feeling, Ellie, but I think you've probably heard that enough."</p>
      <p>Ellie didn't exactly smile. "Oh, yes." The unusual nature of her case had the obstetrician, the pediatrician, and even that guy Doug hovering and testing. In Doug's case she was pretty sure it was just political, and she was happy to support him in that at the beginning, but eventually she had to put her foot down. "I think I gave Doug enough blood to <em>write</em> the damn paper."</p>
      <p>"Hey, babe, he needs the publication credit if he wants to keep his job," said Devon, collecting her coat.</p>
      <p>"So tell me," said Ellie, dragging the conversation away from where it had been the last few days of her life, "What's been going with everybody out here? All I know is that Carina finally got the call?" She moved to her chair and sat down.</p>
      <p>"Actually, we're sort of hoping that you can tell us, dear," said Mary, as Stephen went to get her some food and Devon started taking pictures. "They aren't saying anything to me, of course, and I'm really trying to get Stephen out of 'renegade spy' mode." She suddenly glared at her husband. "Really, Stephen, what were you thinking?"</p>
      <p>The genius-formerly-known-as-Orion raised his hand, the one not holding the plate. "Hey, blame Roarke, don't blame me. I would've been glad to stay in our basement." He set the plate on the table so his daughter could use it one-handed.</p>
      <p>"I'd rather blame someone alive," said Mary, but then she caught the pained expression on her daughter's face. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to ruin your homecoming."</p>
      <p>"Mom, just the fact that you and Dad are here to argue makes this a wonderful day," said Ellie, resolving to discuss business with the General from here on out. "Chuck really fixed our family."</p>
      <p>The word <em>almost</em> hung in the air, but this was supposed to be a happy occasion, so they ignored it. "Would anyone like a glass of wine?" asked Stephen, a bit early in the day for it but how often does one's first grandchild come home? Mary seconded the motion, and he went to the sideboard.</p>
      <p>"Hey, babe, how about a nice baby-smoothie, instead?" suggested Devon. "Some milk for calcium and Vitamin D, a few eggs for the DHA, and a banana for the potassium. Sound good?"</p>
      <p>"Thanks, honey," said Ellie with a smile. Anything was an improvement on hospital food, especially now that Chuck had broken him of his roadkill-shake habit.</p>
      <p>Mom and Dad shared a glance. "You know what, that does sound good," said Stephen, putting down the corkscrew. "Let's all have some."</p>
      <p>"Outstanding," said Devon, with his trademark grin. He put down the camera and went into the kitchen.</p>
      <p>"So, Ellie, have you been keeping track of Clara's vital statistics like I suggested?" asked Mary, and Stephen went into the kitchen to help.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>That afternoon, in the swamp…</p>
      <p>"So what are you going to do with these two?" asked Carina, looking into the car. Two men sat in the front, unconscious, apparently from an impact with a large tree.</p>
      <p>"Depends on what they were doing," said Casey, reaching in through the window to search the guy without moving him around too much.</p>
      <p>"Running away from a pitched battle with federal officers, from the look of it," said Carina, doing the same on the other side. The battle was over, but the mopping up would take a very long time. Pedro St. Germaine had been a central link in the flow of guns and drugs into and out of the Southeastern U.S., but not anymore. Now he was air pollution, dead in his own trap, leaving his main facility (using the word loosely) ripe for the plucking.</p>
      <p>That wasn't part of the plan, actually, and the Powers that were in charge of the FBI side of things weren't thrilled. Hard to trace a guy's distribution network when it didn't exist anymore, so Chuck had to be clever again.</p>
      <p>"Take it easy with the pat-down," said Casey, as Carina's investigation of the male body got more vigorous. "We don't want to have to tranq them again." Bad enough they'd had to do so last night, but the intel at the compound trumped a couple of goons. Especially when Chuck thought he could use the goons.</p>
      <p>"Got something," said Carina, working her way ever further down the man's torso.</p>
      <p>"I know what you've got," said Casey, trying hard not to look. "And you'd better put it back before that boy–"</p>
      <p>"Casey!"</p>
      <p>"–friend of yours finds out."</p>
      <p>"You have a dirty and lascivious mind, John Casey," sneered Carina, loosening the guy's belt and reaching into his pants. She pulled out a manila envelope, folded over but unsealed.</p>
      <p>"'Lascivious'?"</p>
      <p>"Davis has one of those word-a-day calendars. I think he likes upgraded banter too."</p>
      <p>Casey prayed for strength. Or a muzzle in her size, whichever came first. "What's in it?"</p>
      <p>"Three hundred sixty four words with accompanying defini–oh, you mean the…thing." She popped it open and reached inside. "One cell phone, and…another cell phone."</p>
      <p><em>Jackpot</em>. "You keep those, and here." He held up a smaller device, as she put the phones in her pocket. "We'll let them carry on with whatever they were doing." He dropped the flash drive into the envelope without having to actually, you know, touch it.</p>
      <p>"I think he'll notice that his package has gotten smaller, Casey. Men can be sensitive that way."</p>
      <p>"This is the upgraded version, huh?" Sounded just like the old banter.</p>
      <p>"Why waste the good stuff on <em>you</em>?"</p>
      <p><em>How about strong, </em>and<em> a muzzle.</em> "Just put it back, Miller." He pulled a little flat spray case from his pocket.</p>
      <p>Carina had to think about what she was doing. She'd never helped a man put his clothes on before. She recognized the sprayer, at least. "What's In that?"</p>
      <p>"Twilight juice, a bit more concentrated than the darts." Casey sprayed the atomized liquid into the two men's noses. "These guys will forget the last several hours, assume it's because of the crash, and deliver what they'll think is their boss' package, none the wiser."</p>
      <p>"What if you just erased their memory of who they're supposed to give it to?"</p>
      <p>"Then he'll come looking for them. Either way, not our problem."</p>
      <p>"Works for me." Carina pulled out a special gun and fired twice, once into each unconscious thug's leg.</p>
      <p>"What's that for?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>"Not so much fun, being left out of the plan, is it, Casey?" She displayed the gun but didn't hand it over. "Manoosh gave it to me before I came down."</p>
      <p>He reached over the top of the car for it. "Looks like a water pistol."</p>
      <p>She pulled it back. "That's just the shell, it's experimental. Vivian put a tracker in Chuck, now he's returning the favor."</p>
      <p>Casey shook his head, disappointed. "She'll be ready for that, everyone she sees will be scanned long before they get to her, like Sarah was."</p>
      <p>"Good," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"Good?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh spoke geek, she didn't. "I think it works that way, you'd have to ask Chuck."</p>
      <p>"It'll tag them all the way to Volkoff?"</p>
      <p>"Depends on how many times they get scanned. It should give us a few more links in the chain, at least, even though–"</p>
      <p>"We only need the next one."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah woke to a soft thump. Throwing off her blanket, she rolled off the bed so as not to disturb Chuck. Yawning, she walked to the door and opened it, looking down. No Newspaper.</p>
      <p>Big box of guns, being carried by two strong young soldiers, talk about a rude awakening. She'd just made a mistake in a business where most people only get one. "Sorry, Agent Charles," said the younger of the soldiers. "The other agent said we're supposed to let you sleep, but this one got away from us a little bit…"</p>
      <p>"Uh, that's…you know what, that's fine, it's about time I was getting up anyway," Sarah said, forcing a smile. "You wouldn't happen to know where I can find the other agent, would you?"</p>
      <p>His hands full, the young man indicated a direction with a toss of his head before he and his partner took their burden away. Sarah closed the door, leaning against it. A couch, not a bed, sat against one wall, with a light blanket on the floor. Not a bed. Some dead criminal's office, not a home.</p>
      <p>On the plus side, she hadn't opened up the door to that soldier while dressed only in lingerie.</p>
      <p><em>I have to get out of this business.</em> This life, this world. The only life and world she knew, except for the Chuck-related parts, and she really liked being related to those parts. Dinners for three. Beds for two.</p>
      <p>Crib for one.</p>
      <p>She looked down at the folded blanket in her hands, with no memory of how she'd gotten over to the couch, picked it up, or folded it. The doorknob rattled, and she quick-twisted the blanket into a garrote as Chuck opened the door and walked in.</p>
      <p>"I want to quit spying," she said quickly, letting one end of the garrote fall.</p>
      <p>Chuck stopped, with the door half-shut. "Okay," he said, finishing the job. "Not what I was expecting..."</p>
      <p>Sarah threw the folded blanket on the couch and stomped over to him. "I wasn't expecting anything either. I just opened the door in my underwear!"</p>
      <p>"You had clothes on over them, Sarah, I saw you–"</p>
      <p>"It's not funny," she shouted. "I was half asleep, I thought I was in bed at home, and I went to get the paper. What if that had been a terrorist outside the door, instead of that nice soldier?"</p>
      <p><em>No secrets, no lies. </em>"You'd be dead," said Chuck, taking her into his arms. "But, I think you should consider that you've got me, and Casey, and Carina, here with you." He let go a little, to look into her face. "You've got the FBI, and a bunch of soldiers collecting weapons from bad guys who are all dead. If you really, truly, honestly thought that an armed terrorist on the other side of the door was a possibility, you would have taken the right precautions."</p>
      <p>Sarah wished he was wearing a tie right now, something she could hold on to. She focused on his top button. "So…you're saying…I felt safe."</p>
      <p>"You felt safe." He kissed her on the tip of her nose.</p>
      <p>She held him so tightly his heartbeat vibrated through her. "I never feel safe." Not on the outside, at least.</p>
      <p>"Well, you do now." He indicated the couch. "Sit. We need to talk."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Morgan Grimes strolled into his domain, his realm, his restaurant. The patrons came first, of course, and Morgan was ever vigilant for signs of dissatisfaction from what he'd come to think of as <em>his</em> crowd. The sound, that soft even murmur of people more concerned with each other than the venue, told him everything he needed to know. There was Sam at his podium, efficiently distributing the patronage among the efficient and smiling wait staff.</p>
      <p>"Evening, Mr. Grimes."</p>
      <p>"Evening, Sam, and as usual it looks like a <em>good</em> evening."</p>
      <p>"We aim to please, sir."</p>
      <p>"Then you and all your people qualify for marksman badges, Sam, you all hit the target so well."</p>
      <p>"Thank you, sir," said Sam, who currently held a sharpshooter medal with two clasps. He didn't wear it, that would be gauche. "Oh, hey," he said, as if just remembering. "This came for you today." He popped up the lid on his station and pulled out a box.</p>
      <p>"Why would anyone send something to me here?" asked Morgan, unaware that Sam was wondering the same thing. With a key, Morgan slit the tape and opened the package. "Hey, it's my phone!" he said excitedly, pulling the object out of the box. "I thought I lost it in Colorado."</p>
      <p>"On your vacation?" asked Sam, as casually as he could, which was pretty casual. "Why would they send it here?"</p>
      <p>Morgan felt something on the back, and flipped the phone over. Taped on the bottom was a business card. "I was handing out cards right and left. Whoever found it must have put two and two together." He put the phone in his pocket. "I wonder who it was. Be nice to say thanks."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In the lot across the street from the restaurant, a man sitting in a car parked in the shadows put down a pair of binoculars. He checked his own phone, and the picture of Morgan's face that he'd taken remotely with the camera function of the phone in Morgan's hand. Not a bad plan, all things considered, although putting the tech together at the last minute cut into his profit margin. The place was just crawling with personnel from multiple agencies, though, no way he could show his face inside.</p>
      <p>He sent a message to an electronic dropbox, "Package delivered," with the image as proof, as required by his employer.</p>
      <p>After a moment he received a response code. <em>Easy money.</em> He sent it off to a different account entirely, before taking the phone apart and smashing the pieces. He drove away, already forgetting the name of his target.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>For some reason, even though the office had a couch and some chairs, everyone was standing, drinking bad coffee.</p>
      <p>"Quit?" asked Casey, taking a sip and making a face. "Now?"</p>
      <p>The pregnant Bartowski took a sip of her own. "Weren't you the one who told me that the time to go out was while I was on top?"</p>
      <p>Carina groaned. "Not gonna say it." She drank some coffee just to make sure.</p>
      <p>"Thank you," said Chuck, lifting his mug to his lips.</p>
      <p>Casey timed it perfectly. "I meant 'in the middle of a mission', Bartowski, I couldn't care less about your sex life."</p>
      <p>Chuck sprayed his sip of coffee all over the room.</p>
      <p><em>That should have been mine. </em>"Why do I bother?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"<em>I</em> appreciate it," said Chuck, wiping himself off.</p>
      <p>"I'm not abandoning the mission," said Sarah. "It's not just for Ellie, you know. Vivian has Chuck's DNA as well as my own available. I can't go home until I know that that weapon is destroyed."</p>
      <p>"And when it's destroyed, and you go home," said Carina. "What next?"</p>
      <p>Sarah traced a circle on her belly with a finger. "You know what comes next."</p>
      <p>Carina looked unhappy, but not homicidally so. "Then…this is <em>it</em>?"</p>
      <p>"<em>Miller</em>," said Casey suddenly, before Sarah could say anything.</p>
      <p>"I'm sorry," said Carina, and the amazing thing was, she meant it. "It just slipped out."</p>
      <p>"What just slipped out?" asked Chuck. "'This is it'?"</p>
      <p>"Bartowski!" growled Casey. He tried to whack Chuck upside the head, but his mug was in his whacking hand and he wasn't about to waste coffee.</p>
      <p>"What's wrong with saying 'this is it'?" asked Chuck. "What's it?"</p>
      <p>"Her last mission, idiot," snapped Casey. "We don't talk about those."</p>
      <p>"Casey!" said Sarah and Carina together.</p>
      <p>"Blame clueless here," said the Colonel, hiding behind his mug.</p>
      <p>"Chuck," said Sarah, while Carina just reached across and planted a fillip on his ear.</p>
      <p>"Ow!"</p>
      <p>Sarah turned her angry expression on her best (female) (spy) friend. "Carina!"</p>
      <p>The redhead stepped back. "I'm just doing what Casey said."</p>
      <p>"<em>Casey…</em>" Sarah reached for her knives.</p>
      <p>"Sarah," said Chuck, putting a hand on her throwing arm. "I'm not clueless, I've seen Last Action Hero. It's my fault.'</p>
      <p>Sarah kicked him in the shin, lightly.</p>
      <p>"Ow," said Chuck again.</p>
      <p>"Dumbass," said his wife.</p>
      <p>"Can we look at the phones now please?" said Casey, in genuine pain.</p>
      <p>"Hmm, yes," said Chuck loudly. "By all means, let's do our jobs."</p>
      <p>"Thank God," said Carina, putting her mug down. "It's not like I want to drink any more of this swill..." She reached into her left pocket and brought out a cell phone. "We found this on the driver."</p>
      <p>Chuck barely gave it a glance. "That's the mate to the phone Alex had at the hotel," he said. "Must be the one Verbanski had. Probably how I found this place."</p>
      <p>"It's got no battery," said Carina. "How could even you get a signal?"</p>
      <p>"New tech," said Chuck. "According to the schematics, it has a booster battery, for broadcast purposes. Save it. We'll have to make sure it gets back to the FBI." As Carina put it back in her pocket, he said, "Casey said phones, plural. I assume there's at least one more?"</p>
      <p>Carina pulled a different phone from her other pocket and handed it across.</p>
      <p>"No battery either," said Chuck, weighing it in his hand, "But it's the same model as mine." He didn't keep the battery in the phone, of course, so all he had to do was open up the mystery phone and slip his battery inside, turning it on. After an eternity, in electronic terms, the screen lit up. "Uh-oh."</p>
      <p>"What's 'uh-oh', Bartowski?"</p>
      <p>"This is Morgan's phone." Chuck turned the phone to show them. "He put My Little Pony into a Super Mario Bros. background and made that his desktop."</p>
      <p>"Put that away, Bartowski," said Casey, wincing. "That's a crime against humanity."</p>
      <p>Chuck turned the phone back around and double-clicked the button, calling all the most recently used apps. "Mail. Clock. Here we go, video."</p>
      <p>"A video of what?" asked Casey, as they gathered around to see the screen.</p>
      <p>"Let's find out." Chuck pressed 'Play'.</p>
      <p>Morgan's face was in the screen, strangely enough, along with another guy that none of them recognized. He was wearing an apron, and the background looked like a deli. "<em>Are we on</em>?" said Morgan, to whoever held the phone. "<em>Okay, well, here we are, with Stan of Stan's Deli, and we, I, have just made a deal that will put this place on the map! I have given Stan the secret recipe for the single greatest deli sandwich ever made. If he sells a hundred of them by the time I leave, I get all of my sandwiches no charge, otherwise, I pay full price plus ten percent. Stan, is that the deal?</em>" The guy in the apron nodded.</p>
      <p>"Oh dear," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"That poor man," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>The video continued. "<em>So, now, here, officially, in front of these witnesses</em>–" Morgan gestured, and the image moved dizzyingly, to show a bunch of people looking on at his antics before coming back to the center of the action "–<em>the sandwich challenge begins. And I gotta tell you, Stan, that I am gonna win this challenge. I'll have a hundred people down here in an hour</em>."</p>
      <p>"He will, too," muttered Casey, sipping his swill. "You can't stop him when there's food involved." Carina nodded.</p>
      <p>The video continued. "<em>I'll be talking this sandwich up one side of Vail and down the other</em>."</p>
      <p>"He gets pretty passionate about his food," agreed Chuck.</p>
      <p>Casey grunted assent. "He said it was his favorite from his Buy More days."</p>
      <p>Chuck's head came up. "Oh no."</p>
      <p>The video continued. "<em>By the time I'm done, the only name that will be on everybody's lips in all of Vail, will be the name of, drumroll please, the </em>Chuck Bartowski."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>That was quick.</p>
      <p>The Last Action Hero has a little scene in it where a policeman gets caught in a bomb blast and dies, saying, "Two days to retirement." The movie makes fun of a lot of clichés in the Action genre, starting with that one.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
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        <strong>A/N I wanted to post this on Saturday, but the failure of a server and the fact that the chapter wasn't done until last night conspired against me. I'm not thrilled with it but I don't know if I ever will be. there isn't a lot of material in Bo to work with. A wasteful and inane piece of stuntcasting, if you ask me, especially since Ms. Derek spends most of it undressing Morgan. I'm trying to keep her out of this story completely.</strong>
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      <p>
        <strong>We also pick up the introduction of Nicholas Quinn where we left off last season.</strong>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Welcome home, Clara."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I just opened the door in my underwear!"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You know what comes next."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You can't stop him when there's food involved."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere in the Everglades, two men came to their senses, slowly. The driver was first, when a snake crawled over his arm. He would have moved more, but the pain in his head stopped him, and so he narrowly avoided being bitten. "<em>Madre de Dios</em>." He grabbed the snake behind the head and used its twisting body to whack his partner across the face, before tossing the reptile out the window. The snake, not the partner.</p>
      <p>The guy in the passenger seat woke screaming. Maybe he had snake issues.</p>
      <p>"Quiet, you fool," said the driver. "They have passed us by. We need to get out of here before they come back for us."</p>
      <p>"Here?" asked the other man, looking around. If you don't already know where you are, one piece of swamp looks a lot like any other piece of swamp. "Where is here? Where were we going?"</p>
      <p>The driver was reluctant to admit he knew no more than his partner, and made an effort to try to remember anything that would satisfy his ego. As he shifted his position, he felt the thick paper of the envelope he kept hidden in his pants. "We have a package to deliver for the boss, idiot. How could you forget such a thing?" He tried the key in the ignition, never thinking about who might have turned the car off in the first place.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Miss Volkoff, I heard shots," said Mr. Carmichael, stepping out of the stairwell, pistol trained on Nicholas Quinn. "Who is this man?"</p>
      <p>"An ally, Mr. Carmichael, more loyal to me than Mr. Riley here proved to be." Vivian stepped back and indicated her fallen advisor with the gun she held in her hand. "So put your pistol away and take care of this mess, while I confer with Mr. Quinn."</p>
      <p>She gestured toward the damaged door to her office. She and Quinn stepped over the body and walked away, leaving Mr. Carmichael to ponder which branch of the household had this responsibility.</p>
      <p>Vivian walked straight to her desk, leaving it to her guest to close the door and right a chair to sit in. "Why do I smell melted plastic?" he asked.</p>
      <p>"You've a keen nose, Mr. Quinn," said Vivian, seating herself behind the desk. She put the gun down, not facing her visitor's chair directly. "I can only smell the gunpowder." Quinn waited patiently. "A message from an enemy, Mr. Quinn, the kind that destroys not only itself but the computer on which it was played. My man was disposing of it when Riley decided to reveal his true colors." She picked up her letter opener, lying on the desk, and wiped the blood off of it with a tissue before putting it back in its place.</p>
      <p>"I understand your anger, Miss Volkoff," said Quinn, noticing the new scar in her desktop. "I've experienced a betrayal or two myself."</p>
      <p>"My condolences."</p>
      <p>"Miss Volkoff, this isn't a social visit," said Quinn, not wanting her sympathy. He'd cut out the hooks of trust long ago, and he wasn't about to let them catch on him again, under any guise. "The people I represent believe, for reasons unknown to me, that their interests and yours coincide. They are inviting you to meet with them."</p>
      <p>"Where?"</p>
      <p>"In the United States."</p>
      <p>She gusted out a laugh. "Mr. Quinn, I just received a very direct and personal threat from the single greatest agent America has, possibly the greatest on the planet." She didn't notice Quinn's face get any stonier as she continued, "I can assure you that while he is out in the world trying to destroy me, his allies will be keeping watch for me on his home ground." A classic ploy.</p>
      <p>"For you alone, perhaps," said Quinn. "But you're not alone anymore, and my employers, like myself, are very capable of keeping what they want hidden, hidden." Certainly he'd never heard of the group Decker claimed to speak for, until Decker spoke to him. "At one time not too long ago, <em>I</em> was the single greatest agent America had, too." Not that he'd earned it. Daniel Shaw's obsessions had left a vacuum at the top. "Destined for great things, but a traitor took my destiny from me, and they sent me back out into the world. I was captured, I was tortured." Rage twisted his face. "I was disavowed, left to rot for over a year in a hole. <em>In a hole!"</em></p>
      <p>The shout appeared to take them both by surprise, and he took a second to get himself together.</p>
      <p>"And now you're a messenger?" asked Vivian.</p>
      <p>"I have an organization in America," snarled Quinn. No, he was not her friend, not anyone's. "Until recently I had one in Europe as well. My current employers are taking advantage of a moment of relative weakness, that's all. I will have my destiny."</p>
      <p>She couldn't care less about his 'destiny'. "What happened to your team in Europe, Mr. Quinn?" <em>Can you really protect me, Mr. Quinn?</em></p>
      <p>"Several of my clients gathered for a meeting, I was tasked with security. That security was penetrated by the CIA, and my primaries were killed. Worse, someone had evidence of my own involvement, some redheaded bitch named Miller. I sent my team after her, but only after she passed her evidence to someone else, named Rizzo, and I had to go after her myself. I got Rizzo, but the team I sent after Miller never returned."</p>
      <p>Vivian didn't doubt that for a moment. "Carina Miller works for Agent Charles," she said. Quinn may not be her friend, but if she could make him her enemy's enemy that would do just as well. "Who did you say penetrated your clients' meeting?"</p>
      <p>"I didn't say," said Quinn. "It was an agent named Walker. Sarah Walker." <em>With your father's help.</em></p>
      <p>"She works for Agent Charles, too."</p>
      <p>"I want her." <em>The things she could do, under </em>my<em> control!</em> He would control her, if he could get her away from Agent Charles for even just a minute. Then, with her in hand, he could destroy Charles and bring his destiny full circle.</p>
      <p><em>You can have her, for all of me. </em>Agent Miller was at that meeting? She had to be, to get evidence of Quinn. How did she know? Frost, or Charles? No matter, for her purposes it had to be him. "It appears we have a common enemy, Mr. Quinn." Nicholas Quinn would be her enemy as well, if he ever learned of her father's involvement, and her own. "Only his name isn't really Charles."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On the way back to DC…</p>
      <p>"Anything, Casey?"</p>
      <p>John had lost the coin toss, so he was the one flipping through the photo roll on Morgan's phone. "Just the world's biggest collection of selfies. And what is that on his head?"</p>
      <p>"Let me see." Carina took a close look at the tiny screen. "Oh my god, fake dreadlocks?"</p>
      <p>The real ones weren't bad enough? "How could he stoop so low?"</p>
      <p>"Not to mention being on the bunny trail," said Carina, pointing to a sign in the background. "Those kids could be scarred for life."</p>
      <p>"Please," said Casey, looking at the overweight, overbundled blobs of dough she was calling kids. "Those yuppie larva could use a good scarring, that's what life's all about. You get hit, you scar. You fall down, you get up again. If you do it right, eventually you turn into a real person, worth having around." Instead of pampered aristos who won't ever be interesting in their entire lives. He flipped a finger, dismissing the lot of them.</p>
      <p>"You've been a parent for what? A year?"</p>
      <p>Like he needed a reminder. "If I'd wrapped Alex in bubble wrap all her life, or Kath, you think she'd be what she is now? You can protect your kids too much, you know?"</p>
      <p>Carina's face went utterly, horribly still, for a bit. "No, Casey, I don't know. I never will."</p>
      <p><em>Good move, dumb-ass! </em>won out over <em>But how was I to know? </em>since the latter was just too whiny to listen to, even alone in his own head. "Sorry," said Casey, and he was. He'd been a father for a year, and already he couldn't imagine a life without Alex in it. He could remember a time when he neither had a daughter, or even the possibility of a daughter, but he didn't want to think about those days. Those were the only days Carina had.</p>
      <p>"Don't be," said Carina, her face coming alive again. "You didn't know, and anyway it sounds too creepy coming from you."</p>
      <p>Casey discovered a new use for his grunts, filling in a space where he didn't know what to say.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck and Sarah strolled through the airport concourse in Colorado hand in hand, vapid smiles on their faces while behind dark shades their eyes moved ceaselessly, panning for enemies. Every so often one or the other of them would move their fingers 1-2-1-2, except one time when they both tried to do it simultaneously, and their smiles became a little less vapid.</p>
      <p>"How are you feeling?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Exposed and endangered," said Sarah, her smile edging on plastic.</p>
      <p>"So, same as usual?"</p>
      <p>Brittle plastic. "Do you remember how Casey felt, putting on his dress uniform for the first time in a long while, to walk me down the aisle?"</p>
      <p>When he thought about the wedding, Chuck remembered a vision in white, but if he worked at it he could make his perfect memory look a little bit sideways to the man on whose arm she walked. "I remember he said it felt like it had shrunk."</p>
      <p>"It didn't shrink, Chuck, he got larger. Looser. Just like I have." She squeezed his hand. <em>Like I will.</em> "I could feel it, as we drove away from that compound, like a spy suit that I'd managed to take off for a while and had to put back on again. Familiar but not comfortable."</p>
      <p>Suddenly Chuck had an image in his head of a wardrobe, with a suit of armor in it, named Carmichael. A shout of <em>"You don't need me!" </em>rang in his memory. He shook his head at the sudden double apparition of sight and sound.</p>
      <p>"Did you just flash?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"No," he said, holding her hand tightly. "No, just a…memory. A dream. A memory of a dream. Spy suits and armor."</p>
      <p>Sarah remembered reading those reports, and laughed. "Here I was going to ask if you knew what I meant, and it seems I finally managed to understand what <em>you</em> meant."</p>
      <p>"My condolences."</p>
      <p>"No, Chuck," she said, pulling on his hand to make him stop. She lifted her other hand to his cheek. "We shouldn't be sad, we should be grateful. I should be grateful, and I am. How can I remove something I don't even know I'm wearing?" She liked having enemies she could fight.</p>
      <p>On their way out of the building they passed another couple coming in, intently discussing their business trip, to the point where they didn't even notice Chuck or Sarah. The man bumped into Chuck, and only Sarah's firm grip kept her husband on his feet. The man also helped to steady him, apologizing profusely for the incident, and the two couples parted ways.</p>
      <p>Chuck lifted his hand to adjust his glasses.</p>
      <p>"Well?" asked Sarah, when they were well away.</p>
      <p>Chuck pointed to a car rental agency, and they headed that way as he put his hands in his pockets, where he left the note he'd gotten from the other agent. "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Carmichael have reservations at the Golden Peak Resort in Vail."</p>
      <p>"Michael Carmichael?" said Sarah, both outraged and amused. "Whose idea was that? What parents named Carmichael would name a son Michael?"</p>
      <p>"The idea was probably Carina's, and you should really count your blessings," said Chuck. "Otherwise Michelle would probably be <em>your</em> name, instead of my imaginary mother's."</p>
      <p>Sarah was lost. "Your who?"</p>
      <p>"My–" Chuck stopped himself. "You <em>did</em> hear about what happened in Marrakesh, right?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You want me to do <em>what</em> with these?" asked Manoosh, flipping through the images on the phone. "I thought the Intersect was supposed to help the Host interpret <em>intelligence</em>."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted with amusement. "You should have known him before. This is the improved version."</p>
      <p>"Casey…" said Carina tiredly.</p>
      <p>"How am I lying?"</p>
      <p>"Holy Hoth System, Batman," said Manoosh. "Check out the cold-weather gear on that babe!"</p>
      <p>Casey had his hand on the littler man's shoulder–<em>Grimes has no business hanging around with </em>babes–and was pulling him away from the screen before he realized who the 'babe' in question had to be. "Oh, her," he said dismissively. "She's in a lot of these."</p>
      <p>"What is she, his ski instructor? They always have the hot ones in those places," said Manoosh, trying to get a better look. "I think I could use a vacation myself."</p>
      <p>Casey pulled back harder. How can such smart people be so stupid? "That's his girlfriend, numb-nuts."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, right. That Neanderthal couldn't score a <em>Homo Superior</em> like her if he saved the President," sneered Manoosh. "And besides, that's not how evolution works. You've been watching too much Land That Time Forgot…"</p>
      <p>"He served with her father, honorably," said Casey, tightening his grip. "Saved his life at least once, and earned two commendations for valor."</p>
      <p>Manoosh tried to drop out of the painful hold without success. "That's just luck."</p>
      <p>"True. But you know what's <em>not</em> luck?" Casey let go. "Selling secret advanced technology to the highest bidder, that's not luck."</p>
      <p>"That wasn't me," said Manoosh, rubbing his shoulder as he backed away. "That was an alternate reality version of me."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted noncommittally, and Carina stepped in to save him. Not that she minded him looking stupid occasionally, but that was a partner thing. In front of the assets a bit of solidarity was called for. "Well, how about the current reality version of you get started on the upload? The sooner Chuck gets it the sooner we can get back to our mission."</p>
      <p>Manoosh shrugged. "Don't know what your rush is, you still have to get the glasses to him."</p>
      <p>"He's got glasses," said Carina. "You had them out on the table, so I snagged them."</p>
      <p>A pair on the table? <em>Why were–?</em> Casey cleared his throat imperatively and Manoosh clicked the mouse to start the encryption.</p>
      <p>Something about glasses. "You gave him a pair for the download, didn't you?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The desk clerk at the Golden Peak had a package for Mr. Carmichael. In the privacy of their room, Sarah attached a ticker to the window as Chuck opened the package, taking out a computer. His bag had a set of cables, while the glasses were hidden in plain sight. Sarah plugged the earpieces into the cable connections, as Chuck set up a secure connection with the network.</p>
      <p>Sarah handed him the business end of the cable connector, so that he could plug into the machine and pull the upload as soon as it was available. Sarah's phone started to ring as they sat waiting, so she took her phone away to listen to whatever the caller–Carina–had to say.</p>
      <p>The bar reached one hundred percent and Chuck plugged in.</p>
      <p>Sarah heard the sound and turned back. "Chuck, wait a minute."</p>
      <p>"Too late," he said. Once the upload started they couldn't stop it without forcing Manoosh to regenerate the whole thing, which wasn't a big deal, but the glasses would be ruined, and they only had one pair. "Is there a problem?"</p>
      <p>Sarah put the phone away. "Manoosh just reminded her that we didn't have a download pair. We have to hold off the upload until we can remove it again."</p>
      <p>"Oh." Chuck looked at the hookup. Inconvenient, but nothing to be done about it now. They'd just have to rely on good old-fashioned spy work until their teammates could get there from DC with a download pair. Not a bad thing, keep them in practice. "Not a problem. Once it's done we'll just have the hotel store them in the vault."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey moved his finger over the screen, pretending to be interested in the photos. "I just hope there's something useful in all these, make the pain of having Morgan's life in his head worth it."</p>
      <p>"I think this is the part where Alex would say 'Dad', but since she's not here I'll have to do it." She glared at her partner. "<em>Casey</em>. You better learn to be nicer to Morgan, I get the feeling he's going to be in your life for a long time."</p>
      <p>She sounded snarky and superior. <em>That's more like it. </em>"Can't be as bad as uploading the video, when you see as much as Chuck does."</p>
      <p>"Chuck won't be looking at Morgan, Casey, he'll be looking at everything around Morgan. Aside from spewing the name of his favorite sandwich all over town while somehow managing to forget in the heat of the contest that it was the name of an international agent who also happens to be his best friend…" Carina paused to take a breath. "Where was I?"</p>
      <p>"You were about to say that he's very loyal to Chuck." And honest, although that might just be stupidity.</p>
      <p>"Right, he's very loyal to Chuck, so he's the one thing Chuck won't be paying attention to. If I can see the opportunity Morgan created, you can be sure Agent Charles has. We've got some cheese on the ground in Colorado, now all we have to do is build a trap around it.'</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"A sandwich?" asked Vivian. "Named for America's foremost agent? What an absurd idea."</p>
      <p>"Absurd or not, it appears to be the case," said Quinn, scanning the report. "A trip to Colorado might be in order."</p>
      <p>"It's almost certainly a trap."</p>
      <p>"I see no signs of it."</p>
      <p>"Then it has to be. The only traps Agent Charles makes are the ones you can't see."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N2 Lots of family stuff, and a few plot points that hopefully you won't see until the time comes, and then you'll, "Ah, of course..."</strong>
      </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> Maybe it's because I'm reposting season 1, but I find myself harking back to a lot of my early Chuck ideas. Not that that's a bad thing.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Why do I smell melted plastic?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>It appears we have a common enemy."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I should be grateful, and I am."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>What an absurd idea."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Vivian Volkoff looked at her wardrobe with distaste. The items were all clean and well-mended, if mended at all. Which was not much, her life had never been particularly stressful on clothes, and her funds had always been sufficient to allow her to trade in old for new when needed. Trading in new for old grated.</p>
      <p>Not a power suit in the lot.</p>
      <p>Vivian Volkoff was <em>persona non grata</em> in the United States, but Vivian MacArthur was a nonentity. She could travel freely, and attend meetings in out-of-the-way venues with other low-level executives of unknown companies. Odd that such freedom could feel so confining, or perhaps that was just the price of power.</p>
      <p>That price had just risen sharply. Her father had lived, perpetually aware of an Agent X that would someday destroy him, but he at least had the luxury of never knowing who or where that Agent was, or when he would strike. God <em>damn</em> Riley! His fault that Vivian had no such blissful ignorance. Thanks to him, her doom was now actively stalking her. Already she was getting reports of facilities lost, key personnel dead, shipments missing. Agent Charles had no reason to spare her, and less reason to be quick or merciful about it.</p>
      <p>He should have struck first, struck hard. Perhaps he didn't think she would diminish herself this way. If so it was his first mistake.</p>
      <p>She needed allies, so she folded herself into her old clothes to get some. "Are you ready, Mr. Carmichael?" He'd better be. She'd not spend a single instant in this dowdy get-up longer than she had to.</p>
      <p>He appeared in the doorway, looking not very different at all, the freedom of powerlessness. He would be believable as her associate, rather than her servant. "Yes, Miss Vol–I mean, Miss MacArthur."</p>
      <p>Good. He not only remembered who she was supposed to be, he knew who she still was. "Get Mr. Quinn, and we'll be off."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere in Colorado, dark, warm, and finally still…</p>
      <p>"And that is why I prefer to travel from East to West on these missions of ours," said Chuck, as they lay in bed, catching their breaths.</p>
      <p>"You prefer your delight in the pre-dawn hours, Mr. Carmichael?"</p>
      <p>"Hell yes, Mrs. Carmichael," said Chuck, "Always get the most important things done first."</p>
      <p>She rolled over to partially cover him, murmuring happily. "Rainbows…"</p>
      <p>"And besides," continued his mouth on its own, "More often than not we're treating our injuries or soaking in the tub at night, kind of kills the mood, if you ask me."</p>
      <p>"Hmm, I don't know," said Sarah, her hands wandering. "I seem to recall a few memorable massages."</p>
      <p>"Ah!" said Chuck loudly at something she did under the covers. "Again? Is this a pregnancy thing?" He'd heard rumors to that effect.</p>
      <p>She chuckled softly in his ear. "I'd say it's a naked-husband-comfy-bed thing, early in the day with no one to–"</p>
      <p>The phone buzzed.</p>
      <p>Chuck's head fell back on his pillow. "Woman, when will you learn to keep your mouth shut?"</p>
      <p>
        <em>Zzzz.</em>
      </p>
      <p>She raised herself up, looking down on him. "Shut? I thought you liked it when I–"</p>
      <p>
        <em>Zzzz.</em>
      </p>
      <p>Breasts. Phone. Breasts. Phone. Chuck covered his eyes. "Shoot me now."</p>
      <p>
        <em>Zzzz.</em>
      </p>
      <p>"Bang." Sarah put her hand on the phone, but didn't pick it up. "Casey or Morgan?"</p>
      <p>No hesitation. "Casey, of course." Morgan could only focus on one shiny thing at a time, and right now that was Alex. Good for Alex, better for them.<br/>Sarah picked up the phone. Chuck watched her school her features into her standard professional mask, the one she only took off for him. "Hey partner, what's up?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Mr. Clyde Decker," said Quinn, "Miss Vivian MacArthur, as promised." The other two men in the room weren't introduced to anybody. The short scarred man glared at Mr. Carmichael with undisguised hostility.</p>
      <p>Mr. Decker, if that was his real name, looked even less comfortable in his not-so-expensive suit than she was. He handed a folder to Miss Volkoff's escort. "Mr. Quinn, your destiny awaits, as promised." Quinn snatched the folder and moved out of earshot as Decker turned to his guests. "Miss MacArthur, do you know who your associate is?" He didn't offer to shake hands, or even nod his head.</p>
      <p>She felt welcome. "Yes, I do, Mr. Decker. Do you?" She sat, and they followed suit. Anybody watching would think they were all courteous gentlemen. Tommy handed Decker a ticker and he set it on the table as Vivian said, "Mr. Carmichael–"</p>
      <p>"Carmichael?"</p>
      <p>"–has been in my service since I went to Macau to claim my father's assets. He's immensely valuable to me, so I would prefer if you kept your hands away from your guns, please."</p>
      <p>Decker clasped his hands in front of him, clearing his throat gruffly at Tommy to do likewise. "Our apologies, Miss Macarthur, but Agent Carmichael was legendary for working through others."</p>
      <p>"It sounds like he's dead."</p>
      <p>"That could be one of his ploys."</p>
      <p>"That's as may be, but this man is <em>my</em> man, is that clear?"</p>
      <p>"Crystal," said Decker, who only saw what he wanted to see. "Shall we get on with the purpose of this meeting?"</p>
      <p>"If you would."</p>
      <p>"The people I represent have been working behind the scenes for years, building an infrastructure to unite and solidify the economies of the world in a single set of hands. Their hands." Somehow he managed to say that without sounding silly.</p>
      <p>Vivian started to rise. "I've seen the movie, Mr. Decker. It never ends well."</p>
      <p>"We wrote the movie, Miss Volkoff," said Decker. She stood, waiting for more, so he gave it to her. "We go to considerable effort to make it look as stupid, or as difficult, as possible, so that no one who thought about it at all would believe how easily it could be done. But we live in a world of illusion, a virtual world, that most people are all too happy to take for truth. Power belongs to those who don't. We are offering you a share in that power."</p>
      <p>How very nice of them. She sat again. "In exchange for what?"</p>
      <p>He seemed embarrassed. "At the moment, money will do quite nicely."</p>
      <p>She laughed. "World domination within your grasp, yet you hesitate to rob a bank?"</p>
      <p>Decker's hand moved, touching a folded copy of some local newspaper. Most likely a prop; she couldn't imagine him caring about any of the stories it had to tell. "Bank robbers get noticed, Vivian, but world domination is so much easier when no one is aware of it, even after it's happened. Until recently we had our own sources of funding, but they have been stripped from us and, for reasons of secrecy, we can't get them back. So we must…reach out."</p>
      <p><em>To those who would keep your secret</em>. "Why me?"</p>
      <p>"Because your father is Alexei Volkoff." He said it like it meant something.</p>
      <p>All it meant to her was that she had wasted enough time on this…nonsense. "He <em>was</em> Volkoff, as big an illusion as any in this world."</p>
      <p>He seemed to find her vehemence…satisfying, and leaned in close. "No, Miss Volkoff, not an illusion, not a lie. Alexei Volkoff was created, not an accident. The science that created him is the science that will give us the world. Coffee?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Morning, in a popular deli…</p>
      <p>They waited until the morning rush faded, which took a while. "Good morning, Stan."</p>
      <p>The guy behind the counter turned and squinted. "Do I know you? You ain't from another one of them news stations, are you? Not another lawyer?"</p>
      <p>"Lawyer?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, from that girl in Burbank, trying to claim copyright infringement. It's just a sandwich, for God's sake."</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Sarah. "No."</p>
      <p>"Good," said Stan. He winked at Sarah. "Be a shame if a gal as pretty as you was a lawyer."</p>
      <p>"Well, Stan, I <em>am </em>a lawyer, but I do dabble in lingerie modeling from time to time."</p>
      <p>Stan blinked. "Really?"</p>
      <p>Sarah burst out laughing. "No, Stan, not a model, not a lawyer."</p>
      <p>Stan laughed too. "Hey, buddy," he said to Chuck, "This one's a keeper."</p>
      <p>Chuck held up his left hand. "Kept, Stan."</p>
      <p>"Lucky bastard. What can I do for you?"</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled a phone from his pocket, and clicked play. "Well, Stan, we'd like to talk to you about this, if you don't mind."</p>
      <p>Stan didn't waste any time looking at the video. He stopped smiling, too. "Look, buddy, it's like I told them other guys, I don't know him. I haven't got any idea where he is."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At the DC Buy More…</p>
      <p>"Hey Alex, what are you doing here?" asked Morgan in surprise.</p>
      <p>She lifted a package. "Guy in the office rolled over my headphones with his chair. You?"</p>
      <p>"You probably won't believe it," said Morgan. "You remember how I lost my phone in Colorado? Somebody mailed it back to me!" He pulled it out of his pocket to show her.</p>
      <p>"Didn't you just buy a replacement?"</p>
      <p>"Well, that's what I'm doing here."</p>
      <p>"You've been using it for a week, Morgan," she said with some snark. "I doubt they'll let you return it now."</p>
      <p>"Oh ye of little faith," said Morgan. "I was a greenshirt for seven years, <em>and</em> I have my sales receipt. Watch and be amazed."</p>
      <p>They turned to watch a tall man walk up to the counter, trying to get the attention of the man, or maybe that was a woman, sitting behind it. "I'd like to return this blender."</p>
      <p>"I'm on my break," s/he said, fiddling with a phone.</p>
      <p>"I have my receipt."</p>
      <p>"Bored of you."</p>
      <p>"Are you in a serious relationship?"</p>
      <p>"What?" said the androgynous Herder. "You're getting pretty personal for a blender return."</p>
      <p>"Do you love her?" asked the man. "Him?"</p>
      <p>"You better go talk to Big Michelle."</p>
      <p>Alex shuddered. "Whoa. Spooky."</p>
      <p>Morgan took a step backward. "So I have two phones. I can always use a spare…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck put the phone away. "Somebody else looking for Morgan?"</p>
      <p>"<em>That's</em> his name," said Stan triumphantly. "Morgan! Never could remember it."</p>
      <p>"They were looking for him but didn't know his name?" said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Stan shrugged. "I don't think his name was the one they cared about, they seemed more interested in the Chuck, wanted to know what he knew about it. I figured they worked for that girl in LA."</p>
      <p>"I suppose they might," said Chuck casually, not believing it for a second.</p>
      <p>"Hey, who do you work for?" asked Stan, belatedly suspicious.</p>
      <p>"Us? We work for a restaurant chain on the East Coast," said Chuck. "Mr. Grimes manages one of our sites. Apparently while he was here he left a lot of cards, in addition to the sandwich recipe, and that's kicked up some activity. Corporate sent us to look into it and see if we can capitalize on it further." Money. Always a good excuse.</p>
      <p>"You already got the video. I got some clippings here, if you want them," said Stan. They also had the name of his deli in them. Maybe he could get in on a little East Coast action himself. "Sales have been through the roof."</p>
      <p>"That's great, Stan," said Sarah sincerely, as Chuck looked around the counter area for a camera.</p>
      <p>Stan didn't notice, not with Sarah smiling at him. "Tell you what, I'll give you some numbers, if you promise to mention me in your chain back east. Maybe that'll get this LA girl off my back."</p>
      <p>Not if Lou was the same combative entrepreneur Chuck remembered, but he wasn't about to tell Stan that. Since the whole campaign was imaginary, what was the harm? Now they had an excuse to stay, and snag some camera footage if there was any. Once Casey and Carina got there, he could look over Stan's customer base through an Intersect lens while they collected hotel guest lists. "That'll be great, Stan, thanks a lot. We're at the Golden Peak, just ask for Carmichael."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At a certain meeting, over tea…</p>
      <p>"Are you saying my father was some sort of…construct?"</p>
      <p>"Alexei Volkoff was an artificial personality created accidentally by Hartley Winterbottom," said Decker, spreading peanut butter on his bagel. "He was part of a team developing a method to bypass learning by direct upload of memories. He tested it on himself."</p>
      <p>'A form of amnesia' indeed. "And became my father?"</p>
      <p>"Eventually," said Decker, cruelly casual. He took a bite of his bagel and made her wait until he finished it. She sipped tea, and pondered her trainer's lessons on the breaking of horses. "We watched Alexei for years. The technology was promising but his instability was troubling. How much was from the memories, how much was inherent to the machine? Or Hartley himself? Could it be controlled, or reversed? We couldn't act until we knew."</p>
      <p>"And now you know?"</p>
      <p>"But that wasn't the only thing," said Decker, taking another long bite. "Alexei may not have had Hartley's personality but he had his abilities. The Hydra database was even more interesting than Alexei himself, and of course the Norseman."</p>
      <p><em>Of course the Norseman</em>. A secret untraceable weapon, to defend a secret virtual empire.</p>
      <p>Decker wiped his face delicately with a napkin, not practicing good manners so much as mocking them. "We approached him about both, but he turned us down. We would have stolen them from him, but he had to expect that, and he figured out a way to hide them so completely no one could ever find either one. We were at an impasse, until Agent Charles came along. His solution was admirably final, if nothing else."</p>
      <p>"He killed my father, and destroyed Hydra."</p>
      <p>"Wrong," said Decker. "On both counts." He looked at his watch. "Gosh, look at the time." He stood up, and Tommy with him. "We can help you get your revenge, Vivian. Kill Charles and all those close to him, if that's what you want. But isn't it a better revenge to succeed, in spite of him?"</p>
      <p>Control the world, in a coup that even Agent Charles wouldn't know about? No. "Yes, it's better," said Vivian, standing as well. "But I want him to know it."</p>
      <p>"No one can be allowed to know."</p>
      <p>Vivian shrugged. "No one alive." There were unmarked graves a-plenty already, she was sure.</p>
      <p>For the first time, Decker smiled.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on his precious file, contents already committed to memory but he kept the physical totem anyway. He liked to touch it, stroke it. Drum his fingers on it. His destiny. The Intersect.</p>
      <p>It should have been his, would have been if Larkin hadn't stolen it. Wouldn't have been in a hole for 378 days. <em>In. A. Hole! </em>Wouldn't have been broken, but broken was better than dead, which is what happened to everyone else they tried to give the Intersect to, when they rebuilt it. But not him. Obviously he was meant to have it. Destined.</p>
      <p>Not Larkin, he'd made sure of that. Made sure the Ring knew about him, his plans. The Ring would have stolen his destiny back and killed the man who stole it, but Larkin didn't die fast enough. He destroyed the Intersect first, or so the Ring said, but now they were gone too.</p>
      <p>He remained. His destiny remained.</p>
      <p>But just because it was destiny didn't mean he had to be stupid about it, and even destiny could use a little help now and then. Agent Walker worked for Agent Charles. Agent Charles was really Agent Bartowski, and there was a new sandwich called the Bartowski in Vail, Colorado. That couldn't be a coincidence. Just like it couldn't be a coincidence that Decker's meeting was in Denver. Whatever connection Bartowski had to Vail, he'd find it, and then he'd find Walker.</p>
      <p>She would get his destiny for him.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Once out of the deli Chuck got on the phone immediately. "Alex? Hi, yeah…we just found out something you need to know. You remember that deal Morgan made, about the sandwich? Yeah, that one. Well, we're in Vail now…I know, it's supposed to be your job, but…yes, we're just checking…Look, there might be some danger to Morgan…I thought it might. We talked to Stan, he said other men were asking about him, and what he might know about me. So keep an eye out there. Right, I'll be calling them next. Very good. Right. As soon as–Yes, as soon as we find anything we'll call you. Yes. Bye." He ended the call and turned to Sarah. "Now who does she remind me of?"</p>
      <p>"The answer better be me," said Sarah. "Don't forget to call the restaurant, and give them a heads-up too."</p>
      <p>"I'm doing it," said Chuck, already entering the number. "Hi, this is Mr. Underhill, I'd like to book a table, maybe two…No, I don't know how many, it's very up in the air at this point. But if it's going to happen I expect it will be in the near future. I'll let you know. Thanks."</p>
      <p>"Underhill?"</p>
      <p>"It's either that or Gandalf."</p>
      <p>"You're such a nerd."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The idea of putting cameras inside phones, like most other ideas, has its upsides and its downsides within the intelligence community. Sure, they could now take photos of classified documents, personnel, and installations far more brazenly than they used to, and they could even send those images to their home bases almost instantly. On the other hand, somebody else could do the same thing to them.</p>
      <p>Case in point, a surreptitiously taken photo of Chuck and Sarah, dispatched who knows where with no names, no dates, just a location, and an instruction. "Come quickly."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N2 Hmm, I seem to be in a fluffy mood today. Not sure why I wrote that Charah sexy scene.</strong>
      </p>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N3 Whew, came to my senses and deleted it. Don't worry, it was just cuddling and sexy banter, you won't miss it.</strong>
      </p>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N4 Oh, what the hell…</strong>
      </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>I have no objection to Quinn as a villain, just that he was too sudden and underdeveloped to be the Ultimate Big Bad. As one of a set of Little Bads, he's actually quite useful.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Always get the most important things done first."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>It never ends well."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Just ask for Carmichael."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I expect it will be in the near future."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina didn't throw herself into the chair, as she usually did. "You ever think about giving all this up? Becoming a civilian again?" she asked, as they suffered the long flight to Colorado in the otherwise-empty jet. She didn't want to jinx Sarah's last mission, but she just had to talk about it with someone. Hopefully up in the air the jinx demons wouldn't hear them.</p>
      <p><em>This life? </em>"You mean, going places I'll never see, meeting people I'll never know?" asked Casey, not looking up from his magazine. "Working with people I'd rather kill, killing people I'm not allowed to hate first?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, like that," said Carina, taking a sip of her coffee, trying to scald the taste of that Florida swamp muck out from where it clung stubbornly to the inside of her mouth. When he put it like that it didn't seem like much.</p>
      <p>Casey turned the page. "Nope, can't say I thought about it much at all. Guess I always hoped for a soldier's death, hopefully not a spy's death. In action, honorable."</p>
      <p>"Arlington, yeah, I remember. Good luck with that." She saluted him with her mug.</p>
      <p>Grunt. "Pretty sure Alex would rather I didn't."</p>
      <p>She just got used to <em>having </em>a father. "Pretty sure you're right." That's why agents weren't supposed to fall in love. Easier not to worry about losing when you have nothing to lose. Not many can love so powerfully that they can overcome that.</p>
      <p>Casey raised his gaze, glaring at her. "What's <em>your</em> angle?"</p>
      <p>"Well, you know, can't have my own family, so I have to stick my nose into somebody else's."</p>
      <p>"So bother Bartowski. Two babies, no waiting." If Ellie let's you within a hundred yards.</p>
      <p>Carina hummed <em>uh-uh</em> into her coffee. "They've got family like crazy over there, you'd think after twenty years apart they'd know how to do it, but no, they're like human crazy glue. How could I possibly twist their little minds with someone always looking over my shoulder? Whereas Alex only has you, she's ripe for a little mind-twisting…"</p>
      <p>Casey almost hated to ruin her hopes. Almost, except that he really rather enjoyed it. "We watch <em>Downton Abbey</em> together. Alex' idea, but I got into it."</p>
      <p>"You're kidding."</p>
      <p>"Not at all," said Casey, twisting the knife just a bit more. "The bombs they drop on Edwardian convention? Explosive."</p>
      <p>"So you're saying the maid laying out the coffee spoons with the dinner service was intentional?"</p>
      <p>"You caught that?"</p>
      <p>"Well, duh! How can you flout expectations if you don't know what they are? Not a housemaid, though. I've always thought of myself as more the 'scandal-plagued heiress' type, don't you think?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Vail, Colorado. Quinn drove slowly through the town, getting a feel for the place. Plenty of scenery, lots of activity. Throngs he could hide in, treeline he could shoot from. Except he didn't know what he was supposed to be shooting at.</p>
      <p>He'd had plenty of time on the road to figure out how to fix that. "Hey, Stan."</p>
      <p>Stan took one look at his un-skier-like outfit. "Not another one."</p>
      <p>"Not another what, Stan?"</p>
      <p>Something about his tone set Stan off, the wrong way. "No more interviews."</p>
      <p>"I'm not looking for an interview, Stan," said Quinn, his tone hard. "I'm here to get a Chuck Bartowski, with a side of hot blonde." He held up a photo of Sarah. A bit of a long shot, but anybody who worked for Agent Charles had to know and would need to check, and she wasn't all that forgettable.</p>
      <p>Stan was no good at trying to hide his reactions. "Don't know her."</p>
      <p>Bingo. His destiny hovered. "I'm sorry, Stan," said Quinn, pulling a silenced gun from his pocket. "My friend here couldn't hear you."</p>
      <p>Stan flinched. "Are you crazy?"</p>
      <p>Quinn appeared to think it over. "I think so, Stan," he said sadly. "You go through the kind of things that I've gone through, you'd be a little crazy too." He shot twice, and the two coffee urns on either side of Stan started draining on to the floor. "And clumsy."</p>
      <p>"All right!" yelled Stan. No need to make a mess, and now he was going to have to buy two new urns. "They're at the Golden Peak, name of Carmichael."</p>
      <p>Quinn smiled. "Carmichael, huh? You know, Stan, that's almost funny."</p>
      <p>Stan smiled in relief. Quinn shot him in the head. On the way out he grabbed some snacks, in case he had to shadow the hotel and got hungry.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck pulled his rental car into the lot, glad to be back, ready to do what he did best. "Stan said he might forward us some numbers," he said as he got out, in case anyone should overhear. "Let me ask at the desk."</p>
      <p>Sarah covered the door and Carina checked some of the side rooms, especially the lounge–faux rustic, ugh–while Casey checked the windows overlooking the lot.</p>
      <p>At the desk Chuck asked the clerk a totally different question, screened from observation by his team. "The name's Carmichael. I left an item in the safe until I got back." He showed her his room key.</p>
      <p>She checked the list. "Yes sir, Mr. Carmichael, I'll just get the manager."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn watched as the team surrounding Agent Walker fanned out in front of the desk. The tall one had to be Charles, the other two he dismissed as muscle.</p>
      <p>As if sensing he was being watched, the big guy turned, casually, appearing to inspect the rack of local sites while really looking out the windows. Quinn kept his eyes down, watching the charade on the screen of his tablet, down in his lap. He reached out, casually, and got a cookie.</p>
      <p>When the big guy turned back as the manager arrived, Quinn dared to raise his eyes and see for himself. These little cameras couldn't catch everything. The manager handed Charles a case and his team gathered around as Charles opened it, not because he thought it might be compromised but simply because it would look odd if he didn't.</p>
      <p>Behind Quinn, doors slammed, four of them in quick succession. He checked his mirrors. Four men in long coats walked away from four cars. Time to go.</p>
      <p>Quinn checked his watch, put away his food and folded his paper, just like any employee finishing up his break. <em>This complicates things.</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The leader of the men on the rooftops relayed the information to the man in the comfort of the lead car. He called it in. "The information is correct, they are all here."</p>
      <p>"Funds are being transferred," said the man on the other end. Always reward your informants promptly. "We only want Carmichael. Kill the rest."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn stopped in another parking lot, looking for someone just getting out of his car, so he could acquire another set of plates. With that important detail out of the way, he found himself a quiet spot and pulled out his tablet, setting the video at the beginning. <em>"Stan said he might forward us some numbers."</em> Quinn listened to the sound of sirens in the distance. Not going to happen.</p>
      <p>He zoomed in on Agent Charles, and got his second good laugh of the day. No wonder Decker had been so suspicious! No wonder Vivian valued him so highly. Lots of ideas for devious schemes presented themselves to Quinn, at least. Unfortunately, he couldn't make any of them work without her permission and he didn't know how to get that.</p>
      <p>He let the recording play, watching Agent Walker According to Vivian she was married to Charles, and she looked it. He could use that.</p>
      <p>Charles opened the box, and Quinn did whatever he could to get some idea of what was in it. Black and shiny, oddly shaped. It looked like a pair of…sunglasses?</p>
      <p>He reached for his file, just to be sure.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The uploads went as they usually do, until Chuck started to come out of it. Casey and Carina looked on with some concern as he raised his hands to his head, as if in some pain. "This is just… incredible."</p>
      <p>"What is, Chuckles?"</p>
      <p>"What do you mean, 'what is it'?" snapped Sarah. "Isn't it obvious he's in pain?"</p>
      <p>"Butt out, Bartowski," said Casey. Sarah turned toward him but already had his hands up. "We've got a bet riding on this."</p>
      <p>It took a second, but…"You bet on an upload? What for?"</p>
      <p>Casey shrugged. "That's the bet."</p>
      <p>"Come on, Chuck," said Carina, slapping her hands on the table. "Win this one for the redheaded chicks. I need a new coat a lot more than Casey needs a new gun."</p>
      <p>"No you don't," said Casey. "I've seen your closets." He checked everyone's security periodically, and they checked his. So far only Sarah never lost, but they gave the credit for that to her cyber-geek husband.</p>
      <p>"Not recently, I'm guessing," said Carina. "I donate regularly to Fashion Models Anonymous."</p>
      <p>Chuck groaned, dropping his hands but looking at no one. "It's like time-lapse photography of the sun rising and setting around Morgan's head."</p>
      <p>Casey smirked at Carina. "Told you."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Have you made contact?" asked Quinn, using every trick in the CIA playbook to keep his voice steady.</p>
      <p>"Please," said the woman on the other end of the call. "He was fawning all over me. My hand is covered with slobber."</p>
      <p>"Things have moved faster than anticipated." The Intersect, his destiny, was in Vail, within his grasp. "I need leverage. Grab him tonight."</p>
      <p>"He'll be at the restaurant tonight."</p>
      <p>"Well, then grab him at the restaurant!" Quinn killed the connection in fury. How hard could that <em>be</em>, for God's sake.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at the hotel…</p>
      <p>The phone rang, showing Sarah's name, and Chuck put it on speaker. "You got the recordings?"</p>
      <p>She sighed. "It's a wash on the footage, Chuck. Stan's dead, and the police have already confiscated the tapes."</p>
      <p>"Robbery?"</p>
      <p>"Doesn't look it. Shots on either side and then one to the head."</p>
      <p>"Two to make him talk and one to shut him up," said Casey. "Wonder what it was about."</p>
      <p>"Probably not a sandwich."</p>
      <p>"What else could it be in this damn town?"</p>
      <p>"You didn't see anything in the upload, Chuck?" Sarah hated for his suffering to be in vain.</p>
      <p>"A couple of faces I recognized, no permanent affiliations," he said. "And a woman in white. I didn't recognize her but I feel like I should somehow. Looks like another dead end."</p>
      <p>"Not yet," said Sarah, "Stan had our name and location on a pad, so expect a visit from the police."</p>
      <p>"You gave him your names?" Casey sounded disgusted. He got up, moving between Chuck and the door, just on general principles.</p>
      <p>"It was part of our cover," said Chuck. "Sarah smiled at him and he got all helpful, not <em>our</em> idea."</p>
      <p>"In this business a helpful civilian is a dead civilian."</p>
      <p>"Not always," said Sarah</p>
      <p>Casey couldn't deny it, but still…"It's the way to bet." He heard the sound of slowing cars and slamming doors from outside. "Heads up, sounds like the boys in blue have arrived." He looked into the lot and saw…four cars? "What the hell?"</p>
      <p>A herd of elephants came down the hall.</p>
      <p>"Chuck! Incoming!""</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah heard the start of automatic weapons fire, but one of the bullets must have hit the phone, because it suddenly cut out. On the other hand, she could hear it perfectly well when she rolled the window down. If Casey had a machine gun, not a very big 'if', he still only had the one. In seconds, the steady stream was replaced by single shots.</p>
      <p>The lobby, when she got there, had been abandoned, walls and desk chewed up with what had to be spillover from Casey's weapon. Hopefully there wasn't too much collateral damage in the other direction. She ran down the hall to support her partners. "Casey? Chuck?"</p>
      <p>Seven men lay on the floor, two of them in stolen police uniforms. Some had darts in their necks, elbows, or knees. Some had assumed that just because a vest was called bulletproof it was. Casey had a vest, too, and a table to crouch behind. "Casey! Where's Chuck?"</p>
      <p>Casey pointed up, and she looked where he pointed.</p>
      <p>Chuck had braced himself against the ceiling with his legs and one hand, leaving the other hand free to shoot with. He dropped to the floor and swept his wife into his arms.</p>
      <p>Casey righted the table and picked up the computer, anything to avoid having to look. "Who are these guys?"</p>
      <p>Chuck knelt and rolled them over, looking at their faces, but the Intersect gave him nothing. "Local talent, I'd guess."</p>
      <p>"Not very talented."</p>
      <p>"Were you hit?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"What kind of a question is that?" asked Casey, sounding offended.</p>
      <p>"Well, you do get shot a lot."</p>
      <p>Offense turned to smugness. "Not as much as I get shot <em>at</em>."</p>
      <p>Sarah gave up. Nothing wrong with Casey. "Is this all of them?"</p>
      <p>"Don't think so," said Casey, checking the window. One of the cars was gone. "Nope."</p>
      <p>Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "Great." She heard the sound of many, many sirens approaching, and put her gun on the table. "Looks like I'm giving a statement after all."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>He drove like a wild man, turning at random, no goal in his mind other than to lose the car and get away. Eight on two odds, and they <em>lost</em>. This Carmichael guy was supposed to be just rental meat, nowhere near good enough to take out his entire team. He wasn't even there! Just the one guy behind the table, but even so all his men fell like flies. What was this Carmichael, a ghost?</p>
      <p>Eventually he got to a section of town he recognized, and he pulled into a lot to switch vehicles.</p>
      <p>The inside had been polished already, and he kept his gloves on, so he opened the door and stood, ow! A bullet must have clipped him. Not too bad, no blood on the seat that he could see, but he had no time to look. He slapped a hand over the spot of blood so it wouldn't be too obvious as he walked/hobbled over to the other car.</p>
      <p>He took a quick look around, making himself look guilty as he checked to see if there was anyone there to see him looking guilty. All the excitement was elsewhere, and all the sightseers with it, so he opened the door and slid into the front seat.</p>
      <p>The barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of his head, and he froze. "You guys are idiots, you know that?" asked Nicholas Quinn. "Let me talk to your boss."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah came back with Carina in tow, copies of hotel logs safely digitized for the Intersect. The officers were relieved to see her DEA ID, something that was allowed to operate in-country, even if she hadn't fired a shot. In spite of the chaos, Sarah noticed something missing. "Where's Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"One of the detectives took him away for a private debrief," said Casey. He looked around, and tapped one of the suits on the shoulder. "Where'd the other detective go?"</p>
      <p>The suit looked confused. "What other detective?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn pushed the laundry cart through the doors with a bang. The loading dock hadn't attracted the attention of law enforcement, and the last thug standing waited in his getaway vehicle. Quinn threw the cloths out of the cart. "Never let a bad guy get away," he said to his unconscious victim. He lifted Chuck up and dumped him in the trunk. "And that's how it's done," he said to the driver as he got in. "That's my end. Now you get me Walker. You can have the rest."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A few hours later…</p>
      <p>The phone in the hotel room rang once, bringing an end to the confusion. "Someone get Mrs. uh, Charles."</p>
      <p>Sarah pushed her way through to the front before he was done speaking, and put the phone on speaker. "Hello?"</p>
      <p>"I've got your team leader so this is what's going to happen," said a man's voice. "You're in possession of some highly-classified hardware. You're gonna leave your cop friends at the crime scene, while you bring it to the new Buy More hub in Colorado Springs, in three hours." Then he added, as if just remembering, "Or he dies."</p>
      <p>Multiple fingers started typing.</p>
      <p>"A twenty-seven acre construction site," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"They'll be dug in by now," added Carina.</p>
      <p>"No time," said Sarah. "We'll work it out on the road. Call North Star, find out who's on-site in Colorado Springs." Some backup would be nice, but she'd do without if she had to.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The sun had set, the night turned cold. Not as cold as Sarah's heart. They'd taken her man.</p>
      <p>They stood at the conveniently-open main gate, looking over the expanse of torn ground and construction equipment. "Twenty-seven acres is a lot of <em>here,</em>" said Carina. "Not exactly specific."</p>
      <p>"How do we find the right place?"</p>
      <p>"They want what you've got," said Casey, indicating Sarah's burden. "You follow the signs. We'll follow the trackers." He and Carina moved into the stacks on their way to get Chuck, even as Sarah went after the people who took him.</p>
      <p>Painted arrows and well-placed vehicles forced Sarah onto a single, confusing path through the stacks, until she eventually came out in a cleared space surrounded by materials. In the center was crate, and on the crate…a phone?</p>
      <p>Sarah looked around, but no one seemed to be there. She examined the phone as best she could without touching it, and then, touching it with the longest object she could find, a length of pipe. When nothing happened she felt confident enough to touch it herself. The screen lit, showing an app running, a light pulsing. "Casey, Carina, where are you?"</p>
      <p>"On your five," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Your ten."</p>
      <p>Sarah touched the screen, and the light went out.</p>
      <p>"Just lost a tracker," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Got his watch here," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"It's a trap!" Sarah shouted, but of course by then the men in dark obscuring clothing were already rappelling into the killbox. Five to one, ten to one odds.</p>
      <p>"<em>Bù shāng jīnf</em><em>ǎ!"</em></p>
      <p>She didn't hear them, didn't understand what they'd said. Chuck wasn't here, he'd never been here. They'd taken him from her and they had no intention of giving him back.</p>
      <p>Time slowed.</p>
      <p>Sarah Bartowski moved like lightning, staccato thunder rumbling. She moved like a gymnast and a dancer, moving and spinning, flipping across obstacles, running along walls, flowing from one place to another with liquid speed. She moved like a martial artist and a trained killer, using whatever weapons came to hand or foot, hammer blows and precision strikes toppling the enemy surrounding her, enemies she could fight.</p>
      <p>She moved like a woman deeply in love, deathly afraid, and very very angry.</p>
      <p>She was alone, surrounded on all sides by fallen men. She needed enemies, there had to be more. Someone was yelling and she turned to see who. She saw Casey and Carina, disarmed, captured, human shields against a blonde buzz-saw.</p>
      <p>Two shots in the darkness, four, and the captors were down. Sarah stood there blinking, a killing machine with no one to kill, while her partners grabbed whatever weapons made them happiest.</p>
      <p>Mary Bartowski walked into the light, and looked around. "Where's Chuck?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I got the translation off the web, so hopefully it doesn't sound too strange to native speakers. It's really bad, I know.</p>
      <p>Back in S3 they had an episode where Sarah knocked a thrown knife out of the air with an axe, prompting Orion to ask, "Is she an Intersect too?" I saw no reason why Sarah-in-love would need an Intersect to do what she did to this strike force. Bit of an insult to her character to think she'd have to, really.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Train of Thought</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> Just as an observation, I do a bit more writing of Charah stuff now that I have Charah fans like Tut1971 and Molotov making regular comments about the Charah I write. Similarly, I do a bit more scene setting ever since resaw started mentioning how much my increased scene-setting improved his experience of the story. I'm sensing a theme here.</p>
      <p>pizza: She uploaded the Intersect because the producers wanted her to. Purely manipulative story-telling. Obviously Casey would have shot Quinn first, in any real showdown. I could see it all coming from a mile away when he didn't. Real story logic doesn't let you lie.</p>
      <p>I am once again filling in some empty space left at the end of last episode, in between Chuck's kidnapping and the attempted rescue. In canon this space was left empty, but I have other interested parties who need to be heard from. The canon attack on the Buy More by Quinn has been split into two parts. The first part we saw last chapter, with an attack on Team B in the hotel. The second part is Quinn's attack, in this case on Morgan, mostly offscreen.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>What's </em>your<em> angle?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>We only want Carmichael."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Let me talk to your boss."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Where's Chuck?"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Dinnertime in DC…</p>
      <p>Ellie settled herself into the cushioned seat of honor, with a sigh of relief and only a slight hitch of pain.</p>
      <p>Naturally Devon noticed. "You okay, babe?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, Devon, I'm fine," said Ellie, trying to keep still below the waist. "Just a little sore."</p>
      <p>"We can always do this another night–"</p>
      <p>So considerate, and so wrong. "No, Devon, we can't. A United States General cannot just clear her schedule anytime she pleases. I need to find out what's happening with Chuck and Sarah, and I will sit on a block of stone if I have to, to do that."</p>
      <p>"Not in <em>my</em> restaurant, you won't, Eleanor Faye Bartowski Woodcombe," said Morgan grandly.</p>
      <p>"Hey," said Devon. "Watch it with the name-dropping, will you buddy? That's not always safe in this town."</p>
      <p>"Doctor and Mrs. Woodcombe, you can relax," said General Beckman, oddly matched height-wise with her escort. Morgan pulled out her chair and she settled primly. "The reason I had to do this dinner tonight is because the secure booth here is so sought after all other nights. We can talk in peace."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Post-dinnertime, in Colorado…</p>
      <p>Sarah forced her fists to unclench, her stance to relax. "Why are you here?"</p>
      <p>"Where's Alex?" said Alex' dad. The FBI did kidnappings. Not committing them, resolving them.</p>
      <p>Mary approached slowly, putting her weapons away as she shifted her gaze from one to the next of her strange family. "'Hi, mom.' 'Good shooting.' 'Thank you, Agent Frost.' Let me know when I get close."</p>
      <p>The non-Chuck members of Team B shared a glance. "Hi, mom," said Casey, straining at some variety of falsetto. It didn't sound like Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Good shooting," said Carina, her voice as low as she could get it, which wasn't far. The grin spoiled it. She didn't sound like Casey.</p>
      <p>Sarah shook her head, but dutifully chimed in with, "Thanks, Agent Frost."</p>
      <p>Mary smiled, almost laughed, but twenty years in service, controlling a psychotic criminal genius still came to her aid from time to time. "She did say there'd be days…"</p>
      <p>"Beckman?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"Who else? She didn't say anything about the nights, though." She looked at Casey. "Alex is babysitting for Ellie."</p>
      <p>"You're our backup?"</p>
      <p>Her retirement hadn't been exactly voluntary, so her reinstatement wasn't exactly official. "Not exactly…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Dinnertime, in DC…</p>
      <p><em>Oh, thank God!</em> And thank Alex, for getting to Florida in time! "So Sarah's coming back?"</p>
      <p>"I'm afraid not, Ellie," said Diane. "She's still a potential target for the Norseman. She's actually safer in the field."</p>
      <p>Ellie thought about all the unsafe things out in the field, but merely said, "I hope so."</p>
      <p>Just then one of the waiters tapped politely on the panel by the entrance. "Excuse me, General, but the maitre D' tells me you might want to close the privacy door for a little while. It could get a little loud out here."</p>
      <p>Beckman nodded as she wiped her mouth. "An excellent suggestion. Please, see to it."</p>
      <p>The waiter nodded and withdrew, and the little sounds from without went with him. The silence killed their conversation inside as well.</p>
      <p>Suddenly a low rumbling noise forced its way into their space. Men yelling, and popping sounds.</p>
      <p>"Hmm, that reminds me," said Diane, fishing out her phone. "My apologies, but duty calls."</p>
      <p>"What is that, champagne?" asked Ellie. "Sounds like a pretty wild party."</p>
      <p><em>Or a war zone. </em>"I expect we'll find out eventually," said Diane. "Mr. Clark, inform Jumper the mission is a go. Very good." She put the phone away. "So tell me, how are you adjusting to the baby in your lives?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At the construction site…</p>
      <p>"That was quick," said Casey.</p>
      <p>Mary–Jumper–shrugged. "Chuck saw it coming somehow, gave everybody lots of time to prepare, even me. They got suckered right in. Just like these guys suckered you." She scowled fiercely at Sarah. "You are the mother of my second grandchild! Get your head in the game, or I swear I will ground you for a month. You're protecting for two, now."</p>
      <p>So far the only version of Mary Bartowski that Sarah knew was the subtly manipulative Frost, using the influence she did have to get her way without overt displays of a power she didn't have. Mama B was a lot more direct. <em>Now I know where Ellie gets it from!</em> "Yes, ma'am."</p>
      <p>"Good." Frost looked at the pile of bodies surrounding her daughter-in-law. "What do you have, that they wanted so badly?"</p>
      <p>Sarah reached into her coat, and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.</p>
      <p>"No," said Mary. "They could have just killed you all and taken that." She scanned the surroundings, noted all the bullet holes. "This bunch wanted you personally, it's the only reason to come down at all." She nodded her head toward the object in Sarah's hand. "What is that?"</p>
      <p>"It's the…thing your husband made," said Sarah, aware of how exposed they were. Anyone with the right equipment could hear them. She unfolded them so they'd look like glasses. "Part two, not part one. Chuck has that."</p>
      <p>Frost regarded the glasses like she would any dangerous weapon. Those would kill anyone who put them on, except the man they were meant for and the woman currently holding them. "Wherever Chuck is."</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am." Sarah put the glasses away. "We have to get him back quickly. Whoever took him knew all about these glasses, he has to know about the…thing."</p>
      <p>"Is he one of these?" Frost tipped one thug over with a toe.</p>
      <p>Sarah pushed some of the others, so she could get out of the space she was in. Climbing over the pile was just too much work. "I don't know. Only one of them ever spoke and I don't know what he said."</p>
      <p>Frost looked at Casey. He shook his head. "I couldn't make it out, either. 'Shan fa' is what it sounded like, but they were shooting at us so I could be wrong. He was facing them, though."</p>
      <p>"'Pu shan fa'," said Carina. "No language I know."</p>
      <p>"Is that what you heard?" Mary asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>Sarah dithered, but eventually shook her head.</p>
      <p>"What did you hear him say?"</p>
      <p>Sarah looked…guilty.</p>
      <p>"You didn't hear him at all, did you?"</p>
      <p>Sarah shook her head again.</p>
      <p><em>Oh boy</em>, as Stephen would say. "Agent Bartowski, you are relieved."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Thank you so much for setting my mind at rest, Diane," said Ellie as they were preparing to leave the restaurant. "Much as I hate knowing what's happening, I think being kept in the dark is much worse. I know my parents haven't been taking it well."</p>
      <p>"I'm surprised they weren't here tonight."</p>
      <p>"They had business back in California, Dad's rebuilding RI, only without the evil. They're probably over Colorado by now. I'll catch them up later. Thanks again."</p>
      <p>General Beckman nodded. "Glad I'm able to keep you all in the loop. Good night."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At that moment, somewhere far to the west of Colorado…</p>
      <p>Some days, destiny needed more help than others. <em>"</em>What do you mean, they vanished?<em> An entire strike team doesn't just vanish!"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p><em>No! </em>"You don't have that authority."</p>
      <p>"I'm your mother-in-law, I have all the authority I need," said Mary. Then her tone softened, "No one knows better than I do, how you feel right now." She sighed. "Unfortunately that includes you. So I'm sending Sarah Bartowski off the field before she gets Agent Walker killed."</p>
      <p>"I can control it."</p>
      <p>"She did in Hawaii," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"Was Chuck in danger in Hawaii? Had she been poisoned by the Atroxium in Hawaii?" asked Mary, and the silence was eloquent. She turned to Sarah. "Not to mention you can barely stand right now anyway. You broke a building the first time, and a <em>country</em> the second. I was there to save you in Thailand but I almost wasn't tonight, and until you learn to aim it and fire on command, you're worse than useless. Do you really want me to call your General and make it official?"</p>
      <p>What Sarah really wanted was to go after her husband, but Mary was right, after the fight she just had, she was done. If Beckman ordered her off the case that would be pretty final. If she recused herself…"No, ma'am."</p>
      <p>"Colonel Casey, Agent Miller, do you concur?"</p>
      <p>Sarah watched her two partners nod, unhappily.</p>
      <p>"Good," said Frost. "That's settled. Sarah, you can't go back to DC, obviously, so we'll take you to a safe house elsewhere, once we finish cleaning the site." They all looked around at the bodies. Lots of bodies. Most of them in a pile where Sarah had been. For some reason they all gathered to excavate that first. "We need a story." Something to explain a lot of dead bodies to the people who would be discovering this mess in just a few hours.</p>
      <p>"Gang war?" asked Casey, grabbing an arm and a leg. Always a popular choice.</p>
      <p>"Doesn't look it," said Carina, pulling someone else away. "These guys are all dressed the same."</p>
      <p>"Except for the masks," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Carina looked at the guy she was hauling away. "What masks?"</p>
      <p>"The guy who yelled in my face had a mask on, like these guys here at the bottom."</p>
      <p>"Take them off," said Mary. "Those would be the ones closest to you right at the start, and if they're shouting in foreign languages, I'm guessing they aren't Americans."</p>
      <p>Casey pulled. "You win. Looks Oriental. Not Yakuza, no tattoos."</p>
      <p>Frost looked him over. Yakuza tattoos tended to be flamboyant, but lots of syndicates tattooed their members. She checked in the usual spots. "Here." She pointed to a couple of characters inked on the back of his neck. "These guys are Guan Yi."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Guillermo Chan sat in his office, reviewing security reports. Time was running out. The robbery of his bank by that accursed Carmichael had brought the wrath of the Guan Yi down upon his own head. If he didn't 'acquire' Carmichael soon, it would be his own painful sacrifice that appeased their wounded honor.</p>
      <p>He looked at the image taken just hours before, in the United States. Carmichael, still without that ridiculous mustache, and the blonde. He'd originally wanted to 'acquire' her too, selling her would have made up for the money lost in the robbery itself, but extracting her from America would have been too difficult, so he settled for her death instead. Then that man Quinn had called, Carmichael in hand, and offered him in exchange for her.</p>
      <p>All Chan had to do was get her. He pulled up the hated video of the robbery, for yet another review. He could afford no more errors. The team he'd dispatched to receive Carmichael from the locally-hired mercenaries would instead become the team to acquire the blonde directly. Carmichael's team would come to recover him, and die at their hands, except for the blonde. The redhead would be a useful prize too, but he had no idea where she was, and anyway extracting one live prisoner from America would be hard enough.</p>
      <p>The phone rang, and he was quick to answer it. His façade of calm dropped away, like that of a condemned prisoner, feeling the noose tighten around his neck. "What do you mean, we have lost contact?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Agent Walker had the conn. "Well, at least now we know what they want Chuck for," she said calmly.</p>
      <p>"I told him not to say 'game-set-match' like that," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"No you didn't," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"I was going to, but he said it too soon."</p>
      <p>"Enough," said Mary. "They're going to make an example of him, that gives us time and opportunity." She looked at Sarah, trying to inspire some hope, but all she saw were spy eyes looking back at her. "Maybe more than one. You two they were happy to just execute before, but now it seems like they want Sarah alive. Something's changed."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted a negative. "The only thing that's changed is that now instead of staging a gang war with lots of guns, no blood, and everybody beaten to death, now we're staging an international mob war with lots of guns, no blood, and everybody beaten to death. In Colorado."</p>
      <p>Carina grimaced. "I think even a Janitor would have trouble with this one."</p>
      <p>"Hey, it's a Buy More." Casey looked around, but that perfectly valid explanation simply wasn't going to fly in that headwind. "I don't hear you guys coming up with any ideas."</p>
      <p>"Fine," said Carina. "Uh, the white guys had the guns, the Chinese all knew kung-fu and dodged the bullets, so the home team picked up whatever was laying around and they killed each other off?"</p>
      <p>"You're not even <em>trying</em> to think of a cover story, are you, Miller?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hours later, leaving a carefully-constructed crime scene behind…</p>
      <p>Fortunately Mary had access to plenty of money, renting airplanes for one-way flights isn't the cheapest thing to do at the last minute. The new Orion Industries credit card even kept their names under wraps.</p>
      <p>"I wish I knew where you were going," said Sarah, their pilot, once they were in the air.</p>
      <p>"So do I," said Mary, sitting next to her. She laughed. "And here I was, wishing just the other day that I was more in the loop."</p>
      <p>"Oh, so it's <em>your</em> fault." 'Last mission' demons had nothing on the 'I just wish' demons.</p>
      <p>No. Yes. "Sorry about that."</p>
      <p>"Bring him back to me."</p>
      <p>"I will."</p>
      <p>"I know you will. I was in Thailand with you."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Stephen Bartowski met them at the airport in California, taking Sarah in charge while her teammates checked over the latest intel. A larger and faster plane awaited them. "Where are they going?" asked Sarah as Stephen guided her to his car. She was stumbling with weariness, her body less and less willing to move.</p>
      <p>"The flight plan says Japan," he answered, as he made sure she was buckled up. He closed the door and went around to his side. "Last I heard, Hannah and Manoosh were trading some pretty wild theories why that–um…"</p>
      <p>Sarah was sound asleep. She didn't move as her father-in-law drove back to his safe house. With an even safer basement.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A day later (maybe two, crossing the Date Line sort of mucks up details like that)…</p>
      <p>The city of Tokyo, Japan is bustling, day and night. Hordes of people, as far as the eye could see, and since Chuck was taller than almost all of them, he could see pretty far. He would have been happier without the manacles under his coat, or the explosives against his chest, but at least he had that.</p>
      <p>"Hurry it up, Bartowski," said Quinn, as they entered the train station, and the crowds, under pressure, became thicker and denser. "You wouldn't want us to get separated, would you?"</p>
      <p>Chuck didn't bother answering that, he simply moved faster, unintentionally and unavoidably rude in places where he had no choice. Quinn excelled at finding those, and Chuck left a line of people behind him thinking evil thoughts about 'gaijin' as he kept pace with Quinn's reverse proximity trigger.</p>
      <p>Quinn had a private cabin on the world's fastest and busiest train. He sat, reading a brochure, leaving Chuck to stand or sit as he would.</p>
      <p>"Where are we going?" asked Chuck. "I've always wanted to see Osaka myself, big Shogun fan…"</p>
      <p>"They like to give you a lot of crap about how it's not about the destination, so much as the journey," said Quinn. "But in your case it really is about the destination." He smiled. "I like that word, 'destination'. Sounds like destiny."</p>
      <p><em>Destiny implies someone cares. </em>"You believe in destiny? I'm more of a Fate kind of guy." <em>Fate screws everyone regardless.</em></p>
      <p>"I have a destiny, Agent Charles, and so do you."</p>
      <p>"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like mine?"</p>
      <p>"Because your destiny is to die, so that my destiny can be fulfilled."</p>
      <p>"We seem to be operating at cross-purposes," said Chuck. "And here I was hoping we could be friends."</p>
      <p>Quinn put his brochure down, and stood. "Not cross purposes, Charles. Your life and mine have never intersected in any way." He pushed Chuck into a seat. "You have something that belongs to me, thanks to Bryce Larkin. But once I get Sarah Walker in my corner, I'll get it all back."</p>
      <p>"Sarah will never fight for you."</p>
      <p>Quinn dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "She's a woman, and women gravitate toward men with power. Female agents are no different." Quinn smirked in his victim's face. "We both know why she's with you, Charles. You really think you'd get a girl like her without the Intersect? Maybe you would, but when I get the Intersect she'll be mine. The rest of your team? Dead. Headlines in yesterday's paper. No one's coming to rescue you, Charles."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in yesterday (or perhaps today, Date Line problems again)…</p>
      <p>Vivian noticed the folded up paper as they entered the terminal. "Don't tell me you actually <em>read</em> that scandal rag."</p>
      <p>"There's nothing funnier than what passes for journalism in America," said Decker. "But I have to say, today is special."</p>
      <p>"How so?"</p>
      <p>Decker unfolded the paper and held it up, displaying a picture of an urban development project, under a lurid headline. "Bunch of Chinese Mafia get into a turf war with some local yokels and they kill each other off. Nobody wins." He folded the paper again and stuck it under his arm, chuckling. "Only at a Buy More."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Surprise. I thought the idea that the Guan Yi would just let somebody rob their bank without even an attempt at retribution was pretty lame, but that was yet another thing that just dropped out of canon.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I realized as I was writing this, the thing I dislike about most of season 5, but especially this arc. It's not fun. And the finale sucks, but we already knew that. I didn't try for outright comedy, but I did what I could to lighten the mood.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>You're our backup?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Agent Bartowski, you are relieved."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>These guys are Guan Yi."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>No one's coming to rescue you, Charles."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina stared out the window, at the clouds moving so deceptively slowly past them. Once she'd seen Sarah looking out a window like this, and wondered what she'd been thinking. She'd even offered a half peso per thought, which, at the time, would have been a bargain. Now she could sort of guess.</p>
      <p>She'd sat on seats this hard, looked out a glass panel at a much less interesting view for a much longer time, for very much the same reason. She'd had a lot of time to think, sitting there in her cell, staring at the ghostly reflection of herself in that plexiglass door. She didn't like what she'd seen, an image, a wisp of light on glass, practically not there at all. Her only anchor to the world of the living was her best and only friend, and she was so desperate to keep that anchor she almost destroyed it, destroyed herself.</p>
      <p>She'd seen the face of Death outside that cell door, but that wasn't the face she'd seen last night. Last night's Sarah had a much thinner shell, ground down by the Atroxium, and she had yet to learn to handle it. Like Daniel Shaw she was unable to stop, her fear and anger driving her as his grief had driven him. Fortunately Mary was there to guide her in Thailand, and could call on that control again tonight, before something really bad happened. Much as it felt like a betrayal, she'd had to side with Frost on this one.</p>
      <p>They <em>would</em> get Chuck back. She couldn't let that happen to Sarah again, not now that she knew what it felt like. A little. What she'd said that night on the plane was true, Sarah and Chuck had gone through Hell for each other. She couldn't imagine them doing it on purpose, or herself, but they had done it. What she and Davis had was a pale shadow of that…that…</p>
      <p>She looked around, but no one was looking at her. She looked back out the window, casting her thoughts into the sky.</p>
      <p>Love.</p>
      <p>There, she'd said it. Not out loud, not with Casey right over there. Thought it. Someday she'd say it to Davis. At night, maybe, when he was asleep. But she'd say it.</p>
      <p>After they got Chuck home. They had to succeed, or there'd be no stopping Sarah, or helping her. Nineteen children would remain unconceived, and Carina, selfishly, wanted to be part of as large a family as she could find. She would make sure Chuck kept his promise.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Alex looked up as the door knob rattled, reaching for a bookmark. Just because she'd completed her training didn't mean there wasn't always something she had to learn, and watching over a sleeping little angel was the perfect time to be learning it.</p>
      <p>Of course she had her hand on her gun, under cover of the book, just in case. That part of the job description sort of went without saying.</p>
      <p>No uzi-toting terrorists tonight. "Hey, Alex," said Ellie, taking off her coat.</p>
      <p>"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Woodcombe," said the young agent, releasing the gun and closing the book. "Did you have a nice time?"</p>
      <p>Ellie smiled, much happier than when they'd left. "Yes, thank you. And thanks for watching Clara for us, the General's invitation was such a surprise…"</p>
      <p>"Don't be silly, she's wonderful, very calm, and you just know there's something going on behind those beautiful eyes of hers."</p>
      <p>Ellie had on her happy face. "I always thought so."</p>
      <p>"You're the mom," said Devon, putting the coats away, "You're supposed to think so."</p>
      <p>"Well she happens to be right," said Alex firmly.</p>
      <p>"I surrender," said Devon, closing the door with Alex' coat in hand.</p>
      <p>"You can tell right away he's a heart surgeon," said Ellie, with a grin.</p>
      <p>Alex winked. "He's very smart." She held out her hands and Devon gave her the coat. "I'm glad you had a good time. Did you get a chance to talk to Morgan?"</p>
      <p>"Not much, just when Diane arrived," said Ellie, giving her guest a hug. "I didn't see him when we left. There was some kind of loud party later on, must have kept him busy."</p>
      <p>Alex kept it together in front of the civilians. Maybe the loud party was exactly that. It wouldn't hurt to swing by and make sure. "Well, that's life in management. Have a good night."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"A train station?" said Casey. "Didn't they just get off a plane?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, but not every destination has an airport," said Frost. "How can we find out which train?"</p>
      <p>"Which one leaves next?" asked Carina. That sign over there had the number '15' on it, but was that a time or a track designation?</p>
      <p>Mary made an agreeing hum as she considered the question. "Yes, whoever took him wouldn't want to trap himself on board any longer than he had to. Good thinking."</p>
      <p>"It is, but that's not why," said Casey. He pointed to the main board, the top item. "Look. The next train out's the <em>Tōkaidō Shinkansen</em>. A bullet train. Moves too fast for us to board, all the exits are sealed so Chuck couldn't get off even after he escaped." Because Chuck would escape, he always escaped. It was his best thing, right after 'beating the bad guys'.</p>
      <p>"Close," said Carina, amazed that Casey would come out and say something positive about her in public like that but not about to draw his attention to it. "But I was really just thinking we should see if we can triangulate the signal with the one that leaves first, because it, you know…leaves first."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted his approval. "That sounds like a plan. Get going."</p>
      <p>Carina raced to the far side of the platform, the thick crowds no obstacle for her. Casey moved more slowly, Mary with him. She looked everywhere, but a man as tall as Chuck would have stood out pretty literally in this crowd and did not.</p>
      <p>After just a few moments, much too soon for her to have reached the far side of the terminal, Carina reported in. "You were right, Casey. I just passed the bullet and now Chuck's behind me."</p>
      <p>"Get on board," said Mary. "We'll have to get tickets en route."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah woke to the sound of voices, and to pain. She lay in bed, hurting when she moved but almost too stiff to move. A bottle of CIA-endorsed pain reliever stood on a table, with some toy radio gear, and a glass of water. Flat, warm, water. Somebody had left this here a while ago, someone…absent-minded. She took the pills and drank all the water, laying back down until either the pain went away or she had to go to the bathroom, whichever came first.</p>
      <p>She got out of the bed with a groan, and the low murmur of voices stopped, and then came back, slightly louder than before. The radio gear was real. She picked up the microphone part. "A baby monitor, Orion?"</p>
      <p>"We got them for Ellie," said the speaker part. "In case she ever visited, so why reinvent the wheel? Especially when they were on sale." The speaker made a loud thump as he put it down, and the murmur of voices resumed.</p>
      <p>She used the sound to navigate the unfamiliar house. The living room had a hole in the floor, with some steps leading down. Orion was up to his old tricks, or maybe after twenty years, he just thought better down there.</p>
      <p>The basement held no racks this time, boasting instead a bunch of work areas, with an impressive collection of higher-tech toys. With laser sensors. She wove her way between them, wincing but silent, refusing to give the old hacker the satisfaction. He'd tried to plug the Intersect in his only son, with no one could imagine what possible consequences, and she'd hunted him for that. In her moment of greatest need he was there for her (for Chuck really, but that was the same thing in her mind), with a fast car and a rocket launcher. She'd never had the chance to use the rocket launcher but still she decided, if not to forgive, at least to live and let live.</p>
      <p>Now she was here, in his house, safe until the rest of her family returned her husband to her. So odd, to have a family again. If she'd had a mother like Mary–her mind twitched away from the thought, as it always did. She could not, would not, think of her mother. Especially not now.</p>
      <p>She stepped past the last of the lasers, without a sound.</p>
      <p>"Hello, Sarah," said Stephen, without looking back. "You're just in time."</p>
      <p>"For what?" asked Sarah, spotting the monitor full of purple pixels.</p>
      <p>"I'm just filling in your General on the latest news."</p>
      <p>"Good evening, Agent Bartowski," said the purple smudge. "How are you feeling?"</p>
      <p>"Not field ready, that's for sure, General," said Sarah. The screen swirled, making her a bit queasy. Maybe that was morning sickness. She'd never had it or seen anybody who did, so how could she tell? She turned to her father-in-law, pointing at the screen. "I'm sorry, could you–?"</p>
      <p>Stephen jerked into motion. "Certainly." He ran his fingers over the keyboard. "Um, here's grayscale. It's the best I can do at this bandwidth."</p>
      <p>The screen transformed into a gray field, with darker gray smudges forming an approximation of a human face. "Much better, thank you." She focused on her commanding officer. "Beating up twenty-five men is the equivalent of twenty-five men beating <em>me</em> up. Ellie would have me in bed if she knew."</p>
      <p>Beckman's hand went to her ear. "I'm afraid she does know, Sarah, and she's being very vocal in her agreement with you. You two can get into that after the briefing."</p>
      <p>Whatever happened to maternity leave? Or the Geneva Convention? "Yes ma'am."</p>
      <p>"You did your part, getting your team out of a deadly situation with minimal casualties. Now let your team do theirs."</p>
      <p>Like she had a choice. "Yes, ma'am."</p>
      <p>"Mr. Bartowski was just bringing me up to speed on the latest developments." She seemed to like saying 'Mr. Bartowski' a lot more than saying 'Orion'. Like dancing on his grave, but without the grave.</p>
      <p>He picked up his cue. "They just bought tickets on the bullet train to Osaka, General," he said, checking the account activity on his wife's <em>Orion Industries</em> credit card. "Expensive little buggers, too…"</p>
      <p>"Send me the bill," said Beckman, knowing he would anyway. It wasn't like he needed the money, either, the old coot would just be needling her. She would even pay it, if only to keep the relationship on a professional level, controlled and dignified, to whatever extent Orion did dignity. He would be a thorn in her side for the rest of her career, she was sure, but at least now she had a mailing address.</p>
      <p>"Osaka? Why would the Guan Yi be holding him in Japan?" said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Generals aren't paid to worry about such things. "I'll pass the information along to Focus, Agent Bartowski. I'm sure she has a number of theories. I understand she and Manoosh like to brainstorm together<em>.</em> We'll keep you apprised as the situation develops. Dismissed." She stabbed at the button , but the screen didn't go black. She tried it again, several times. Finally, she sighed in defeat. "Mr. Bartowski, if you would?"</p>
      <p>Stephen laughed. "Certainly, General." A click on the mouse and she was gone.</p>
      <p>"You're incorrigible, you know that?" said Sarah with a smile.</p>
      <p>Stephen shrugged. "What can I say, she pushes my buttons."</p>
      <p>Sarah turned and started to make her way back to the maze of lights, but not fast enough. Her phone started to ring. "I'm going, I'm going," she said, pulling it out of her pocket, and then she accepted the call. "Hi, Ellie…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"So you're thinking we have some third group involved here?" asked Manoosh. He'd thought so for a while now, but she was the one with the spreadsheets and the General's ear. So unfair. Try to sell one national secret to one foreign 'investor' and you were marked for life.</p>
      <p>"I don't see any simpler possibility," said Hannah a/k/a Focus. "None of my scenarios with just two players gets us anywhere close to this sequence of events."</p>
      <p>"Not even the one where they're trying to lose a tail?"</p>
      <p>"Dumped it," said Hannah. "It might have worked if they'd just switched to a different plane in Japan, but I figured a bunch of Chinese guys dragging a tall American through a Japanese train station is probably not the best way to avoid attention."</p>
      <p>"Probably right about that," said Manoosh. "So what do we know about this mysterious third party…?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck sat in a too-small chair, hands chained under his coat, a bomb strapped to his chest, and sneered into his captor's face. "You know nothing about power. You're a traitor, a coward, and a killer." And a liar. All the Intersects in the world wouldn't change any of that.</p>
      <p>Quinn sneered back. "The CIA abandoned <em>me</em>, Agent Charles, they betrayed <em>me</em>. I was supposed to get the Intersect. <em>I</em> was supposed to get the power, but when Larkin stole it I was sent back out to be captured."</p>
      <p>CIA. Good to know. "I doubt that's why they did it." Not to a potential Intersect host.</p>
      <p>"Doesn't matter," said Quinn with fanatic confidence. He pushed himself upright. "They sent me out. I was captured. I was broken, and it was the CIA's fault."</p>
      <p><em>The Intersect won't fix what's broken in you.</em> "I notice you're not denying the rest." Giving him Intersect abilities now would just make him more of a monster than he already was.</p>
      <p>Quinn smiled, more of a manic grin. "Why would I? Being the CIA's best didn't get me any CIA help," he said breezily. "Being a hero didn't get me out of that hole." His grin faded. "Being a killer did, and cowards live to kill another day."</p>
      <p>Chuck had seen the CIA's best, he'd married her, and Quinn wasn't up to that standard. Sarah had taken more than her fair share of hits lately, but she wasn't 'broken'<em>. </em>If anything she was stronger. She'd gotten her life back, her soul back. Her friends back. Chuck flashed. <em>The shooter, singular, not plural, was a white male, with a beard</em><em>.</em> "Like when you went after Agent Rizzo?"</p>
      <p>"How did you know about that?" snarled Quinn. "The Intersect?" He'd erased himself from the CIA's databases. He couldn't be in the Intersect!</p>
      <p>"Her car got shot up on the Autobahn," said Chuck, leaving out the part about Rizzo's miraculous, albeit naked, escape. "The same night she brought us a photo, taken by another agent, who was also attacked. A roomful of men, all watching Agent Walker. All of them, except for a bearded, shadowy white male in the corner of the room. And no, he's not in the Intersect, which makes me wonder if his image was the reason the Facial Recognition app stopped working."</p>
      <p>"That's very possible, Charles," said Quinn with a shrug. "Lots of things stop working around me."</p>
      <p>He sat calmly. "I had no quarrel with Agent Rizzo, but I couldn't allow anyone to know that I existed, especially not the CIA."</p>
      <p>"They do now."</p>
      <p>"They will soon," corrected Quinn. Staying off their radar wasn't hard when you knew how it worked but the Intersect was just too tempting. "Now? You know what, I don't care. Sure it'll be a bit of a race but once I get the Intersect, who cares about the also-rans?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What do you mean you lost Quinn?" shouted Decker into the phone. He didn't wait for an answer. "Reacquire him immediately or I'll let you explain to Mr. Delgado how you lost him in the first place." He threw the phone at the bed.</p>
      <p>Vivian looked up from the document they'd given her to read. "Problems?"</p>
      <p>"No," said Decker quickly. "Quinn was supposed to be a known quantity, his obsession should have made him controllable, predictable."</p>
      <p>Someone they wouldn't have to pay, to get what they wanted. "I'm going to guess it hasn't."</p>
      <p>"Once I gave him those documents I predicted his appearance at the DARPA facility within a day. That idiot who was supposed to follow him decided to wait for him there instead, but he never showed up."</p>
      <p>"You need to start hiring a better class of idiot," said Vivian. "I happen to know where many can be located."</p>
      <p>"What about Quinn?" asked Clyde. "If we're not going to use him we need to cut him off sooner rather than later."</p>
      <p>She nodded. Quinn was a useful tool, but as a competitor he was most unwelcome. "Clearly something has changed. And before you get your knickers in a twist, or however they say it in America, I'll tell you what I think it may be."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Guillermo Chan sat at the back of train, far from where his rank and position entitled him to sit. His time had run out, and if anyone were to discover that fact he was a dead man.</p>
      <p>He did not know this man Quinn, nor Quinn him, but he knew Mr. Carmichael by sight. He watched as the pair walked forward to the reserved cabins, and knew the signal would come soon, a signal for a trade that would never occur.</p>
      <p>He didn't know why Quinn wanted the blonde, beside the obvious, but if she was his price then Chan would meet that price. Quinn seemed like a man of ability, a useful man to have in America. A ransom demand, late at night, would give his own team a chance to do what the American meat could not. When that team also fell silent Chan knew he would have no more opportunities.</p>
      <p>Chan slipped out of his seat at the back of the train, using his illegally-acquired key to access the baggage and freight sections of the train. He recognized his own parcels and slapped them all on the side. From the inside latches were undone and the walls came down. Men stepped out, not mercenaries this time. These men were Guan Yi, under Guillermo Chan's personal command. They were the only forces he had left.</p>
      <p>He needed Carmichael. What Quinn would not give would have to be taken from him.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I don't know why Carina's getting all the character development lately. Next chapter will be Casey's turn.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Casey didn't get a chance to spend a lot of time with Mary, so here he does. Sarah has a few words with Orion, about his son. In canon Chuck was simply chained, and easily rescued. Since I didn't have Sarah here, or Alex held hostage, I had to come up with a different method for Quinn to control Chuck. Putting those sections together took the longest time. I ended up rewriting them a few times over. But it was good, since I came up with a much better way for the episode to end.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>That sounds like a plan."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Send me the bill."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You know nothing about power."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Cowards live to kill another day."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina slipped through the crowds in the dining car, heading for the high-end section reserved for the high-rollers. Neither Casey nor Frost had come equipped to fit into this environment, and truth be told, neither had she, but she'd always thought fitting in was more about attitude than apparel. Looking down her nose on others was second nature to her. The crowds parted for her as she passed, returning gracious nods for their deeper bows. Even the unshaven European toad knew better than to block the aisle as she passed by.</p>
      <p>She paused in the doorway, but moved on without turning back. The European toad ignored her, and ordered a sushi lunchbox for himself.</p>
      <p>"Casey, Frost," said Carina as she passed by closed doors in the next car. "There's a man in the dining car. White, probably European. He smells like trouble." Not too long ago she would have completely ignored it, but ever since Devon had told her she smelled like gunpowder she'd been extra conscious of the smell, extra careful to wash off the residue.</p>
      <p>"We'll watch for him," said Casey, "But we're headed away from the dining car right now, toward the baggage end. Not seeing any Chinese thugs yet."</p>
      <p>Carina double-clicked a response, trying to look in windows without looking obvious about it.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Colonel, what's your professional assessment of the situation?" asked Frost, looking around them at the hordes of laughing happy people going about their lives at 300 kilometers per hour. "Do we have much of a chance to recover Chuck, without violence?"</p>
      <p>"No," said Casey instantly. "The Guan Yi aren't known for restraint, and to be honest, neither am I." He moved through the potential collateral damage as quickly as he could without drawing more attention than he already did. "If we can get Chuck back, I think we can manage to achieve minimal violence, though. It's sort of his specialty."</p>
      <p>"Specialty? Like Sharpshooting?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, only worse. They had to invent a new grade at the facility."</p>
      <p>Mary stepped around a group of giggling schoolgirls. "A new…grade?"</p>
      <p>Casey grunted, rather than repeat himself. "They called it the Escape Clause. My fault, really."</p>
      <p>"You named it?" asked Mary with some skepticism. Casey didn't look like the type for creative labeling.</p>
      <p>He shook his head. "I <em>started</em> it. Put him in A.I.R. in his first module, but it backfired. He kept escaping, and the name stuck."</p>
      <p>Advanced Interrogation Resistance was for experienced agents, it could destroy an unprepared mind. Frost turned a mother's angry glare on her current partner. "Why would you do that?" she asked, her voice promising pain, with a long life to feel it in.</p>
      <p>Casey kept his hands away from his guns. "Because I didn't want him to become <em>me</em>. None of us did, especially him. He only wanted to be an analyst, for God's sake. I expected him to wash out, fail honorably, and move on."</p>
      <p><em>You only fail if you quit, and Bartowskis never quit. </em>"Well, if it's any comfort I don't see any signs of him turning into you. Looks to me like you're turning into him." She turned back to the search.</p>
      <p>He followed. "Don't tell him I said so, but I'll take that as a compliment. He's the second-best–" a train full of people, some of whom might understand English "–person in our profession I've ever worked with."</p>
      <p><em>How's that a compliment?</em> "Only the second?"</p>
      <p>"Sarah's the first. Maybe I'm just old-school but I prefer her style. Your son almost never met a problem head on, in any area. I think he did it for fun, but it was a real pain in my ass. Made it hard to figure a score using the standard metrics."</p>
      <p>Maternal pride warred with <em>So they just let him cheat?</em> "And how did that translate into real tactics?"</p>
      <p>"Not one hundred percent, but you know that," said Casey. "Took a while to find that pinch point, though." Casey paused to push open the door to the next car, and said, under cover of the wind and the noise, "He used a porn virus to kill a computer-driven bomb. He blew up my car."</p>
      <p>"Now <em>that</em> sounds like something a regular agent might do."</p>
      <p>"He had to redirect a guided missile away from a cruise ship using a video game controller, and my car had the right signal." Not a cruise ship, but it had passengers, and what the hell, make it sound good for mom. "I tried, you know. Thought I had him, when I put him up against a girl, but we all know how well that worked out."</p>
      <p>She was probably the only one who did, the only one who'd read the mission report about events inside the club, and went through the aftermath with Sarah on the outside. "You did your best."</p>
      <p>"My best wasn't good enough. Only life could beat Chuck, and life eventually did. By the time he was done with his 'training', three trainers requested transfers back into the field," said Casey with a dark edge of humor in his voice. "Guess they thought it was safer."</p>
      <p>Their comms activated and they stopped, just a car or two from the end of the train. "Guys, I found him, in the reserved section."</p>
      <p>Casey got out a prop phone. "We're on our way." They headed back through the crowds. "Makes sense, I guess," said Casey. "This guy Chan probably only ever gets the best."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Stephen knocked on her door. "Agent Walker?"</p>
      <p>"Come in."</p>
      <p>The door opened, Orion showing off his genius once again, by opening the door and entering the room with a dinner tray, all without spilling anything. Sarah sat up slowly in the bed.</p>
      <p>"I brought you some dinner," said Stephen, "Although the best that can be said about it is that I eat this way myself, when Mary's away."</p>
      <p>"That bad, huh?"</p>
      <p>Stephen laughed ruefully. "Ellie learned to cook in self-defense." He set the tray down. "If you'd like I can keep you company, help take your mind off the food."</p>
      <p>She looked at the meat, and then the knife. "You're that good a talker?"</p>
      <p>"It's about Chuck."</p>
      <p>Clank! went the silverware. "What's happened?"</p>
      <p>Stephen held up a calming hand. "Nothing that I know of, they're probably still searching the train. This is about…before."</p>
      <p>Sarah jammed her fork into meat, but the plate was made of stronger stuff. "Yes?"</p>
      <p>"I'm not going to apologize for what I did, what I…tried to do."</p>
      <p><em>Twice. </em>The knife tore through the meat, squealing along the porcelain. "You're not?"</p>
      <p>"No, I'm not," said Orion, wincing. "This damned project has ruined my life for thirty years, taken away my best friend and the woman I love. Of course I'd do whatever I had to do to save my son."</p>
      <p>"Chuck didn't need saving, not like that."</p>
      <p>"I beg to differ. Mary told me about showing Chuck my panel, and I've read the reports Ellie wrote about the consequences. 'Hitting an eggshell with a hammer' is the mildest image I can think of. He wouldn't have those skill sets running loose in him today if I'd been allowed to prevent any future uploads when I had the chance."</p>
      <p><em>Which means Mary wouldn't have been able to get past us, and…what?</em> No Hartley? No capture of Hydra? No Agent X files? Even Frost thought it turned out better this way. Sarah embedded her knife in the dessert, an attempt at custard. "You know, Ellie once called you eleven kinds of a genius but at times like this I really have to wonder."</p>
      <p>"Sarah?"</p>
      <p>Her body was sore and anyway he was family, so she used weapons appropriate for the occasion. "You wanted to talk, I'm talking. So listen. We've seen how deadly the full Intersect could be, even to trained agents."</p>
      <p>"<em>Especially</em> to trained agents…"</p>
      <p>"Don't interrupt. We know how dangerous even the singleton memories could be, to a capable adult mind."</p>
      <p>"Hartley had issues…"</p>
      <p>"I'm not done. You and Mary created some wonderful children. One has only to look at Ellie, her strength, her kindness, to see the kind of person Chuck could have grown up to be."</p>
      <p>"Chuck's strong…"</p>
      <p>"He's nowhere near as strong as he would have been, without the Intersect."</p>
      <p>Wait a minute, whose side was she taking? "That's what I mean…"</p>
      <p>"No. It's not," said Sarah. "Whatever Chuck might have become before he got that first upload, he's ten times that now." She took Stephen's hand. "You're afraid because of Hartley, but Chuck isn't like him in any way. He wasn't an adult, they weren't singletons. They weren't anything at all, just empty files. That first upload opened up his mind into this vast space and he <em>filled it</em>. He grew into it, his mind is what it is because of it."</p>
      <p>"A spy's mind." He pulled his hand away.</p>
      <p>She let him go. "No, it's just the best use of all his abilities. He doesn't want to waste them, and he wants to do some good. 'With great power', and all that."</p>
      <p>That stung. "He's not a superhero, he's a spy."</p>
      <p>"So were you, or was everything you said in that spy will a lie?"</p>
      <p>That stung more. "I was trying to save my family."</p>
      <p><em>Chuck saved it for you. </em>"He's a bigger man than you."</p>
      <p>Sauce for the goose…"You don't mind seeing him in danger?"</p>
      <p>"He isn't <em>in</em> danger," she said. "Not anymore."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina stopped, looking through the glass to admire a man's behind as he stood, watching the scenery whizzing by. Her first response was a body-wide rendition of <em>Yummy!</em>, then <em>That's Chuck!, </em>followed immediately by <em>Oh crap, how do I write </em>this<em> report?</em> No way Sarah would take 'I recognized your husband by his ass' well. She activated her comm. "Guys, I found him, in the reserved section." She tugged at the door, but of course it was locked. With a flick of her fingers she popped open the lockpicks in the FRODO and got to work.</p>
      <p>Seconds later the door popped open. He didn't turn. "Chuck?" She went into the room.</p>
      <p><em>Now</em> he turned. "Carina? Don't–"</p>
      <p>She stopped. "Don't what?"</p>
      <p>He sagged. "Too late now. There's a bomb under my coat, and a trigger by the door."</p>
      <p>She turned to look at the little gizmo. "What kind of trigger?"</p>
      <p>"Motion detector, I think."</p>
      <p>'Motion to', she was guessing, since she'd just done 'motion from' and was here to think about it. "Your motion or anybody's motion?"</p>
      <p>"It didn't matter before, and to be honest I really don't want to experiment right now either."</p>
      <p>She backed away. "Good point. Let me see the bomb."</p>
      <p>"Better yet, let <em>me</em> see the bomb," said Chuck."My hands are cuffed."</p>
      <p>"Fine." She unzipped his coat. "Oh, God."</p>
      <p>He looked down, not a great angle but enough for the purpose. "It's a Volkoff."</p>
      <p>"I can't defuse that."</p>
      <p>"Don't try," said Chuck. "This thing could destroy the whole car if it goes off. Just get out of here."</p>
      <p>"Oh, yeah, like I'd survive that." Sarah would take the news so well. "We've got to get you off this train!"</p>
      <p>"You've got to get Sarah off this train!"</p>
      <p>"What?" said Carina.</p>
      <p>"You've got to get Sarah off this train before Quinn finds out she's here," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"She's <em>not</em> here, but who's Quinn?" asked Carina. "We came to rescue you from the Guan Yi."</p>
      <p>Chuck blinked, puzzled. <em>She's not here? </em>"There's Guan Yi on the train?"</p>
      <p>She gave him a look full of <em>Duh! </em>"When you were taken, we got a ransom demand, but it turned out to be a trap full of Guan Yi thugs. Sarah got us out of it, and we followed your trackers to Japan."</p>
      <p>Chuck flashed. "Oh. I was wondering why Quinn would bring me to Japan, of all places, but now it makes sense. He's obsessed with Sarah. He must be planning to trade me for her, or for their help in capturing her, I guess, if they don't already have her. They don't have her, do they? Where is she?"</p>
      <p>"Safe house, we had to leave her behind. She destroyed twenty-five guys by herself."</p>
      <p>He remembered their wedding night, and scaled up. "Ouch."</p>
      <p>She scanned the room, searching for a way out of their predicament. "Who is this Quinn?" The room gave her no clues.</p>
      <p>"He's the guy who shot up Rizzo's car," said Chuck. "Probably behind you getting attacked in Russia, too. He was in that picture you took, of Sarah at that club."</p>
      <p>That got her attention. She wanted to meet this guy. "Describe him."</p>
      <p>Chuck gulped. She looked predatory, but not in the way she usually looked predatory. "Uh, shorter than me, vague accent," he said. "He looked sort of like that bad guy from Equilibrium, the one you thought was cute, only with dark hair and a beard."</p>
      <p>The dining car guy! She raised her mike. "Casey–!"</p>
      <p>"Step away from him, miss," said a man with a vague accent behind her.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Guillermo Chan stood in the shadows with his men, watching as the ever-so-efficient conductor strode through the car. It galled him to be reduced to this, but his future rode on this operation. Nothing could be allowed to upset it, especially not his own pride. The Guan Yi needed him, his expertise. The exchange project wasn't as successful as they'd hoped. The project itself ran smoothly, but with the ascension of Vivian Volkoff, her consolidation of power, governments around the world were putting all their efforts into interdiction. How else to explain the failures of their shipments, the ruin of their investors? Their best experts could detect no pattern, no sign that anyone had penetrated their systems.</p>
      <p>The death of Carmichael would change all that.</p>
      <p>At that moment the phone in his pocket buzzed, a hopeful sign. Quinn's signal that he was prepared to trade. Chan was even willing to make the trade, provided this man Quinn would accept a promissory note in place of the actual woman. Somehow Chan doubted that he would. That would be unfortunate, an agent in America would be a useful thing in his new future. Some concessions might be in order. Perhaps he would keep his word after all.</p>
      <p>"We are going to the dining car," he told his men. "I will take two of you with me." The choice of men to accompany him was easy. The man who first dealt with Quinn in America had to be there, a friendly face of sorts. His second would be the other. "The rest will secure our route. Discreetly."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><em>One little mistake, that's all it takes.</em> Carina raised her hands, still with her back to him, and took a step to the left. At least Chuck would be out of the line of fire.</p>
      <p>"Turn around," he said, and she turned. The European toad she saw in the dining car stood just inside the doorway of the room. He gave her a good long look, because he could and why not? "I thought I recognized you. I thought you might be some actress or model, but you're the agent from the hotel. You're supposed to be dead."</p>
      <p>Carina shrugged.</p>
      <p>"Put your hands down."</p>
      <p>She complied, as he reached around the wall and pressed a switch on the trigger. Only then did he enter the room. "Zip him up. When your team gets here, call them in." It wouldn't do for the bomb on Chuck's chest to be blazingly obvious.</p>
      <p>"Why should I?" she said, her hands busy with Chuck's jacket. The zipper snagged, and she had to work it free.</p>
      <p>Quinn reached into his pocket. "Well, if you'd rather, I could wave them in myself, but then I'd have to take my hand off the deadman switch here and Agent Charles wouldn't like that."</p>
      <p>"Fine." She tugged the zipper down again.</p>
      <p>"Hurry it up."</p>
      <p>"I'm sorry, I'm not used to putting men's clothes <em>on</em> them," said Carina.</p>
      <p>He looked her over again. "I'll bet."</p>
      <p>Finally the zipper went up, and Carina stepped away from Chuck without needing to be told again.</p>
      <p>"Good. Now we wait," said Quinn unnecessarily, standing back.</p>
      <p>A few minutes later, Carina saw a flicker of movement outside the door. "Casey, Frost, come on in," she said calmly. "He's got Agent Charles wired to blow."</p>
      <p>Quinn recognized the big guy from the hotel, too. "Who the hell are you?" he asked Frost.</p>
      <p>Frost didn't miss a beat. "Their backup from Colorado Springs."</p>
      <p>"She saved us, after your Guan Yi friends took Sarah," added Carina.</p>
      <p>"Not friends," said Quinn, "Just an opportunity. Guns." All the guns were put on the floor carefully. "Over here." The owners kicked them towards him. Quinn took his hand from his pocket, with the detonator armed and ready. He put his own gun away so he could collect theirs. He studied a complicated and utterly unintelligible panel full of buttons decorating one wall and pressed one, opening a slot. He put their weapons into it, closing the panel when he was done. He pulled out his own weapon again. "Charles, behind me."</p>
      <p>Chuck moved in between Quinn and his friends. "I think I'd rather stand in front of you."</p>
      <p>Quinn considered his options, but most of them sucked. Murdering Charles' team wasn't a part of this deal. Those Chinese morons were supposed to have done it two days ago. "This way."</p>
      <p>"After you."</p>
      <p>Quinn backed to the door and Chuck moved after him. Quinn put his gun away, reaching around the corner and reactivated his little gizmo. "Motion detector," he said to the group on the other side of the room. "You stay over there, he lives a little longer." He opened the door and stepped out into the hall, and Chuck followed. "Say goodbye to your friends, Charles."</p>
      <p>Chuck's arms tensed. "Sorry," he said to his team, his family, "I was gonna give you guys a jaunty little wave, but, you know…" His hands moved in the pockets.</p>
      <p>Carina waved back at him.</p>
      <p>Chuck smiled. "See you later."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Okay, so I got a little cliché with Quinn stopping her just as Carina was about to warn Casey, but the section I overwrote had a lot more clichés than that, so count your blessings.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I'm making up everything about the bullet train. I'm imagining it more as a slow airplane on the ground, rather than a very fast train. I'm having some trouble trying to understand why a commuter train would have staterooms and dining cars, but it's canon, so I'll go with it.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>He smells like trouble."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I'm not going to apologize."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Like I'd survive that."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>See you later."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"'See you later'?" asked Quinn, as they walked toward the dining car. "What kind of last words are those?"</p>
      <p>"Hey, you said to say goodbye," said Chuck. "You didn't say anything about last words."</p>
      <p>"I'm about to hand you over to the Guan Yi," said Quinn. "Someone robbed their bank and they think it was you, and they're not as forgiving as I am."</p>
      <p>"So telling them you're giving them the wrong man…?"</p>
      <p>"Not gonna work. They convinced themselves, I'm just riding on their train," Quinn chuckled. "So to speak. Sorry, but like I said, it's an opportunity."</p>
      <p>"You know, I could still put in a good word for you, with Sarah…"</p>
      <p>"Too late, Charles," snapped Quinn. "Agent Walker <em>will</em> work for me, if only to make your death as painless as possible, but some deals you don't back out of."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the reserved room…</p>
      <p>"Who the hell was that?" asked Casey, as the door shut, sealing them in. Immediately he started looking over the room, but it was a bare as if just constructed. "I thought we were looking for Guan Yi."</p>
      <p>"Chuck said his name was Quinn," said Carina. "Ex-CIA from the look of it."</p>
      <p>"Obviously," said Casey. He pulled out another gun.</p>
      <p>"Wow," said Carina, staring at it, so small in his hands. "Size <em>does</em> matter."</p>
      <p>"Didn't you just give him two?" asked Mary.</p>
      <p>"What's your point, Bartowski?" Casey ignored Carina completely and looked out the window, trying to gauge their speed. <em>Too fast</em> was the number he came up with. Even if he shot out the window, which he might be able to do at this range even with this peashooter, no one could hold on against that kind of headwind.</p>
      <p>Mary realized that any questions involving Casey and guns would be either pointless or redundant, so she turned to Carina. "Who is Quinn, and what does he want with my son?"</p>
      <p>"An exchange of some sort, according to Chuck," said Carina, telling what she knew. She looked for air vents, but the only ones she saw were small enough to fit on a high-tech Japanese train, i.e., smaller than her. "Quinn really wants Sarah, but he had Chuck, so he made a deal with the Guan Yi to trade."</p>
      <p>Even the simple plans can have pinch points, and Frost excelled at finding those. "But they don't have Sarah."</p>
      <p>"I think we need to get out of here before Quinn finds that out."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere in America…</p>
      <p>"Any sign of him?" asked Vivian, hearing the cursing in the next room.</p>
      <p>"No," said Decker, putting his phone in his pocket as he joined her. "Well, at least Tommy's happy."</p>
      <p>"How can you tell?" As far as Vivian knew, Mr. Delgado only had the one expression.</p>
      <p>"Simple," said Decker, with a malicious little grin. "He's taking his time. Don't worry. He'll be all business when we do our own break-in tomorrow night."</p>
      <p>"Good," said Vivian, in that absent way that let the perceptive listener know she wasn't really listening.</p>
      <p>Decker hadn't gotten where he was without being perceptive. "What's the matter? You're men will be there, right?" They needed a better class of idiot to break into the DARPA facility, and she was the money for the foreseeable future, so they were her men, not his. She owned the break-in, but he owned the actual theft.</p>
      <p>"They've already arrived and are verifying your team's reconnaissance," said Vivian. "But as I was making their initial payment I discovered some odd activity in my accounts…"</p>
      <p>"A mouse playing while the cat's away?"</p>
      <p>"None of the people I employ would be so foolish," she said. "And those would most likely be thefts, but I'm seeing additional funds. I can't account for them."</p>
      <p>"Bogus payments? Someone trying to trace your accounts?"</p>
      <p>"It doesn't seem so," she said, before she remembered who she was talking to. "But then it wouldn't, would it? These confirmation codes all appear to be legitimate, but I have no record of having generated them. I–"</p>
      <p>Decker waited, impatiently. He hated these computer games. He was much better at forcing answers out of people."You what?"</p>
      <p>Vivian looked up for the first time. "Mr. Decker, what did you say happened to Hydra?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On the far end of a train in motion…</p>
      <p>Chan's men stood out like sore thumbs as they dispersed along the return route. Literally. At the speeds these trains moved, passengers could not be allowed to remain standing, in case of a sudden deceleration. Even the dining car was only available to certain cars, at certain times, in order to minimize the chance of someone being caught on their feet in an emergency.</p>
      <p>Having Guillermo Chan on board counted as an emergency, and most of the paying passengers stayed buckled up with their heads down. No foolish heroics from office-workers, or vacationing families. Most important, the aisles would be kept clear.</p>
      <p>Up ahead Chan saw a light change, the dining car announcing that it would soon be closed, but he didn't slow, even as the exiting patrons started blocking his path. That's what henchmen were for.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In a safe house in LA somewhere…</p>
      <p>"You're taking this awfully calmly, considering the circumstances that brought you here," said Stephen. She'd fallen asleep in his car. While it warmed him to know that she had him on her 'safe' list, with the current strains in their relationship it couldn't have been easy. His wife had only given him a laundry list of the events of their night, but being eleven kinds of a genius, he could fill in the missing pieces easily enough.</p>
      <p>Sarah twitched, barely able to remember those circumstances. Lots of enemies and no Chuck. The rest was a blur, until Frost, but her suffering had only just begun. Until her team was on its way she couldn't stop, couldn't rest. "That's because they're all with him now, and not with me," she said.</p>
      <p>Orion knew very well who 'they' were, and where they were. "Three agents against an army of thugs with a train full of hostages."</p>
      <p>"Not an army, not in Japan, and four agents. Chuck is there, too." That took care of the hostage problem as far as Sarah was concerned.</p>
      <p>"He's a prisoner!"</p>
      <p>"Maybe," said Sarah. "Or maybe he's just doing a very convincing imitation of one…"</p>
      <p>"Unarmed, surrounded by bad guys with guns."</p>
      <p>"…Until they take him where he wants to be. Didn't you once blow up a helicopter you were in at the time?"</p>
      <p>He did. And he knew she knew he did. Sometimes the only way to avoid being captured is to give yourself up, keep some options open.</p>
      <p>She sat forward, resting her arms on her knees. "How'd you survive that, anyway?"</p>
      <p>"Simple," said the scientist formerly known as Orion. "I knew the missile was coming, and from what angle. I just leaped out of the chopper on the other side, and rode the blast wave back to the side of the building, a few floors down from the roof. You were all looking at the explosion so you didn't even see me." He'd had a Predator drone, his wrist computer. He always had something. "Chuck has nothing."</p>
      <p>If Chuck was surrounded by men with guns, then of course he had something. "You don't know your son very well, do you?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On a train in Japan, just outside the dining car…</p>
      <p>Quinn made Chuck stand behind him, as he did something with yet another of the control panels that seemed to be just everywhere. "Got to clear the dining room," said Quinn to a question no one asked. "Unless you'd rather I killed everyone inside instead."</p>
      <p>"No, no," said Chuck. "Take your time, I'm in no rush."</p>
      <p>Quinn ignored him, staring instead at his tablet, and the video feed it received from the camera he'd placed on the side of the counter while ordering his lunch. "Okay, there goes the crowd. And hello, Mr. Chan." Quinn growled a bit, in the back of his throat. "No sign of Walker."</p>
      <p>"Why would there be?" said Chuck. "He's got more men than you, he can force you to show your hand first."</p>
      <p>"Maybe," said Quinn. "And maybe he's trying to jerk me around."</p>
      <p>Chuck huffed in disbelief. "Well of course he's trying to jerk you around. You think he got to head a bank for the Chinese Mafia by playing nice?"</p>
      <p>"I don't care if he plays nice as long as he plays me straight," muttered Quinn. "I want her, he wants you, this could be good for both of us."</p>
      <p><em>For about five minutes. </em>"You don't know Sarah very well, do you?"</p>
      <p>The confidence in Chuck's voice was really starting to get on Quinn's nerves. "I know that until I get what I want, she's going to be my good little soldier."</p>
      <p>"The same way you also knew that no one was coming for me?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"You think they're coming to save you a second time?" Quinn smiled his mad smile. "Sorry to disappoint you, Charles, but I didn't set the trigger, back there. I set the self-destruct. Not much, not enough to kill on its own but more than enough to blow out the windows." On a train moving at two hundred miles an hour. The slipstream alone would pull them out. Chuck's face fell into grim lines, which just made Quinn smile more. "Too bad we can't wait, let you hear it, but I think you'll have other things on your mind then." Quinn checked his screen again. Chan and his guard looked bored and impatient, while the guy he knew from Colorado was taking food from the serving area. <em>Still an idiot.</em> He grabbed Chuck's arm. "Showtime."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Mr. Chan was watching the door when it opened, and he had his first sight of the mysterious but very welcome Mr. Quinn, the man who would save his life. Short, thick, he seemed both very capable and highly unstable. That was good. It reduced the already very small amount of displeasure Chan felt at not being able to meet Quinn's price. That was a matter of pride, not principal, but fortunately for them, the men who'd failed him were already beyond the reach of Chan's wrath.</p>
      <p>Following Quinn like an obedient, if very tall, puppy came the hated Carmichael, and Chan's slitted eyes narrowed still further. "We have you at last, Carmichael."</p>
      <p>"No," said Chuck, "But I guess you won't believe me about that."</p>
      <p>"I would not believe anything that came out of your mouth except your tongue," said Chan. "If you speak to me again, that will be the first part of your body I will have my men cut off."</p>
      <p>"You can do what you want with him <em>after</em> I get what I want," said Quinn. "Where's Walker?"</p>
      <p>"I do not know, Mr. Quinn," said Chan calmly. "The team I sent to obtain her has not returned."</p>
      <p>"We had a deal!"</p>
      <p>"And I regret that I am unable to keep it," said Chan, not sounding regretful. His men drew their guns and aimed at him.</p>
      <p>Quinn pulled his hand from his pocket. "Shoot me and you all die," he said, holding up the deadman switch. "On his chest is a Volkoff T2 Plasma grenade, powerful enough to melt this car."</p>
      <p>Chan gestured, and his men lowered their arms. "You are a clever man, Mr. Quinn, and ruthless. An alliance would be beneficial to us both. It's a pity we cannot reach an agreement on such a small matter as the eventual disposition of Carmichael's woman."</p>
      <p>"I don't need her because she's a woman, I need her because she's a thief of great skill," said Quinn.</p>
      <p>Chan wondered what he needed to steal so badly, and whether it would be worthwhile to humor him until they could steal it themselves. "You will have her," said Chan, "After we have dealt with your prisoner, soon to be our prisoner."</p>
      <p>"She won't do what I want if he's dead."</p>
      <p>"I cannot allow him to live."</p>
      <p>"You don't have to let him live, just don't kill him until I get what I want from Walker. You can just torture him until then, can't you?"</p>
      <p>"Until you get what you want, <em>if</em> you get what you want," said Chan. And how would they know he'd gotten what he wanted, except by throwing more resources into a project they'd already gotten their payout from. "I think not."</p>
      <p>"We appear to be at an impasse."</p>
      <p>"Indeed we do," said Chan.</p>
      <p>Quinn drew his gun and shot the idiot from Colorado who'd gotten him into this mess. "I hate impasses." Shrill screams made it through the door from the next car behind Chan.</p>
      <p>"You really <em>aren't</em> very forgiving, are you?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p>Some large Chinese thugs made it through the door from the next car behind Chan as well. He puffed up in irritation. "You try my patience, Mr. Quinn. We will take Carmichael now."</p>
      <p>Quinn brandished his trigger. "Try it, and see how far you get!"</p>
      <p>Something that sounded like an explosion came through the door behind Quinn, and Chuck flinched. So did Quinn, but for the opposite reason. Chuck thought he knew what it was, Quinn knew what it wasn't. "You want him, you can have him," he shouted, as the door behind him opened and Casey barged on through, followed by Mary and Carina. Quinn pushed Chuck into Chan's men, pressed the switch into Chan's hand, and continued through to the far side, fleeing the field.</p>
      <p>"He's getting away," said Casey.</p>
      <p>Chan, for his part, added up all the pluses and minuses of the situation in neat little columns. "If you want him," he said, moving aside, "You can have him." His men, already pushed out of the way, stayed where they were.</p>
      <p>"Casey, go," said Carina. "We've got this."</p>
      <p>Casey went after Quinn, pushing through to the next car. "Where?" he bellowed, flashing his credentials. They didn't mean anything, but now he looked official, and all the passengers that weren't recording the whole thing pointed to the back of the car. As he was pushing through the far door the train suddenly lurched, decelerating. He would have fallen but a man's hand on his hip kept him upright. He looked at the passenger and nodded politely. "Domo," he said, the only Japanese word he knew.</p>
      <p>"You're welcome," said the man.</p>
      <p>On the other side of the door he found the reason for the sudden change, a roof hatch was open, the alarm beeping. He swung up the ladder, risking a look since it was unlikely Quinn would be any kind of a threat up there, and he was right. In the far, far distance he could see a parachute, a fast way off and a slow way down. "Dammit." He ducked back down and closed the hatch, and the beeping stopped.</p>
      <p>Beneath him the door banged open and someone tall pushed through, followed by someone not so tall. Chan, getting away with Chuck while his men did what men like them were paid to do. Casey dropped to the aisle, gun in hand, but he couldn't shoot with all the passengers around. He knew his duty. Miller and Frost were on their–</p>
      <p>The door banged open again, catching him on the back. "Come on, Casey," yelled Carina as they ran down the aisle, "Don't just stand there!"</p>
      <p>From car to car they ran, leapfrogging as one after another of Chan's men tried to slow them down and failed. In the last passenger car they caught up to Chan, as he fumbled with the lock. When the door opened, he pushed Chuck toward them as he jumped inside and slammed the door behind him. Casey pulled at the door but it was sealed.</p>
      <p>The baggage car uncoupled from the rest of the train, Chuck on one side, the reverse proximity trigger in Chan's hand on the other as the gap between them slowly widened. They watched through the window as he looked back at them, holding up the detonator for them to see. He pressed the trigger–</p>
      <p>The freight car blew up, the front end lifting off the tracks as a bomb designed to boil metal burned through plastic and ceramics with ease. The car was moving almost as fast as the fireball, though, and hurled itself from the tracks even as it ruptured along its entire length. Track sensors registered a 'condition' and later trains would be slowed but not stopped as the nature of the 'condition' was investigated.</p>
      <p>Casey grunted with appreciation. "Wish Alex could have been here to see <em>that</em>."</p>
      <p>Mary turned to Chuck and unzipped his coat. The strap across his chest dangled, sliced through in two places. His shirt had some bloodstains on it. "What happened?"</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled his hands from his pockets. "It's not like I could see what I was doing, you know," he said, carefully not making any obscene gestures at his mother to display the bloody nail on his middle finger. He held out the other hand to Carina. "Your key, madam." On his palm lay one of her false fingernails, broken off, the one with the handcuff key on it.</p>
      <p>"You owe me a new set," she said, picking up the fragment.</p>
      <p>"Done." He looked around, at all the smiling faces recording the scene for posterity. "Let's go find a spot to get our story straight, before they come to arrest us."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In a paid-for stateroom at the front of the train…</p>
      <p>"Thank you, ma'am," said Casey into his phone, and he put it away. "The General will call the State Department, try to expedite our release, but we could be here a while."</p>
      <p>Chuck shrugged, it was about the best they could hope for. "How'd you get out of here, anyway?"</p>
      <p>"Well, it turns out <em>someone</em> here can recognize a bedroom at twenty paces," said Casey. "Even if it was recessed into the wall." He pointed to the ruined sleeping area.</p>
      <p>"It helped that your mother could read Japanese, and could tell which button opened it," said Carina. She pointed to the damaged panel.</p>
      <p>"And that we had a marksman with us, who could hit that small a target from across the room," said Frost. "Casey went in and kicked out the ceiling fixture, and Carina crawled into the next cabin and opened the door from the outside."</p>
      <p>"Speaking of which, these really aren't the most durable lockpicks I've ever had…"</p>
      <p>"You're already getting a new set, what more do you want?"</p>
      <p>Casey's phone rang, and he pulled it out again. "Hello? Orion? Why are you–what do you mean, 'gone'?"</p>
      <p>Everyone looked at him, and he put up a finger.</p>
      <p>"No, we found him, we've got him right here. They're about to arrest us…Check the evening news, you'll know why…call the General, see if she can expedite the expedite…If not, tell her I said to use the second string, she'll know what I mean. Fine. Yeah. Look, we're pulling in now, and the police will take us into custody, so get things moving. We'll contact you when we're able. Yeah. Good luck."</p>
      <p>"And?" said Chuck mildly.</p>
      <p>"And…you've been captured by Vivian Volkoff," said Casey. "And Sarah's missing."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>No, I do not know where this story is going. Hopefully I'll get some ideas by next episode.</p>
      <p>Other bits of silliness from the Bullet train episode include the idea that a train could just lose a car and not stop to find out why, or that a loose car on the track wouldn't get smashed or otherwise cause trouble on a line where trains come through every few minutes, or that a man with an unconscious woman would be able to get from some hill in Japan faster than two agents with incentive could get to the same hill.</p>
      <p>As for Chan, well, I wasn't planning to blow up Decker.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Intents & Purposes</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> The flashcard scene at the end of Bullet Train is one of the more unpleasant yet important scenes. I couldn't avoid it, so I repurposed it. As anyone who's read this far knows, I'm a sucker for a good dream sequence, or other ways of portraying deep insights in symbolic forms. Most of the time those sorts of things are rendered in italics, to separate them from the flow of the story, but those scenes are so prominent here I had to keep them in normal font, otherwise you'd get eyestrain reading them. Feel free to thank me in the comments.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><em>"Agent Walker </em>will<em> work for me</em><em>."</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"What did you say happened to Hydra?"</em>
      </p>
      <p>
        <em>"You don't know Sarah very well</em>
        <em>."</em>
      </p>
      <p>
        <em>"Sarah's missing</em>
        <em>."</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Earlier that morning (in fact, so early that it was really late in the previous night)…</p>
      <p>Clyde Decker walked over to the bar in the corner and made himself a drink, secure in the knowledge that someone else would be paying for it.</p>
      <p>Vivian set her laptop down on the table. "I'm waiting, Mr. Decker." Her tone implied she was doing him a great favor by doing so and that this would not last. They needed her, or so they said, and she quite liked being in positions of power like that. The existence of Hydra, or her father, threatened that happy condition, especially when someone like Decker knew more about those matters than she did.</p>
      <p>"I was only surmising, of course," said Decker, with his malicious grin.</p>
      <p>"You must have had some basis for your surmise," she said, and pointed to her computer. "And now we appear to have more." She played one of her lowest-ranked cards, a small secret but a secret nonetheless. "The Contessa was destroyed, Mr. Decker, I had those charges planted myself, and the database was not copied where it should have been."</p>
      <p>He trumped it, as she'd expected. His sort love to come off better in such exchanges, just like he preferred to stand while she sat. He came over and stood, looming over her. "Who says it should have been copied anywhere?"</p>
      <p>She just had. She sat back, completely at her ease. To her mind, minions stood, but why point that out to the minions. "Those were my father's final instructions, before that infernal Mr. Charles locked it off, and struck him down."</p>
      <p>Decker laughed, looking down on her, and doled out the scrap she so clearly wanted. "Mr. Charles erased your father when he looked into a retina scan, Vivian."</p>
      <p><em>Oh.</em> "Of course."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Much closer to now than that…</p>
      <p>Sarah sat in darkness, sore and uncomfortable. A light shone from above but revealed nothing except the things she already knew, herself, and the chair she sat in. She saw nothing securing her to that chair, but still she couldn't move.</p>
      <p>A pair of feet stepped into the light, clad in tight leather boots, but the body above them stayed in shadow. "Mrs. Bartowski." The voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it. The legs paced around the circle but the speaker didn't come into the light. "Good, you're finally with me. Now we can begin."</p>
      <p>Sarah looked around. No clues, nothing. Just moving feet and an unmoved voice. "Whoever you are, wherever we are, you have to know that my team will find–"</p>
      <p>"Shh," said the speaker, as if speaking to a child, and for some reason Sarah shut up. A hand stroked her hair, as the feet moved behind her. "Don't. It's just you and me now. Until I get what I want, we're doing it my way. No more left turns, no more screw ups." A pair of sunglasses were thrown on the ground in front of her. "You need some help with your thinking."</p>
      <p>"Those won't work on me," said Sarah, grateful beyond measure to Orion, that this was true. "And I don't work for you." She tried to work her hands free but there didn't seem to be anything to work them free of.</p>
      <p>Hands gripped her shoulders. "You do and you will, until our objective is secure," said the cold, cold voice, so tantalizingly familiar. "Those won't work on you, but these will." A hand gripped the top of her head, pulling up on her eyelids, while another held a card in front of her face, a bizarre geometric drawing etched into it. The design caught her attention, focusing her mind and vision on whatever it was made to focus them on.</p>
      <p>Sarah flashed.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The woman was huge, and red. Fuzzy and uncertain.</p>
      <p>An easy mark, just like her Daddy said. Young girl, charity, and junk food, a winning combination. She kept a smile on her face and kept on talking. "And, as a special deal, if you buy one of every box, you can get twenty percent off your entire order–" she listed the surprisingly large number and types of baked goods quickly, the woman's jaw going slack and pupils dilating with something like shock, while she looked at the wad of cash in the woman's hand and calculated quickly "–a grand total of eighty-four dollars." A big house, a fancy car, she wouldn't miss it.</p>
      <p>The woman looked down. "That's…exactly what I have here…"</p>
      <p>Of course it was. She reached out and took the money from between the woman's fingers, slack with surprise. "Thanks, Miss. Your cookies will arrive next month."</p>
      <p>She marched off, barely catching the woman's whispered, "Okay" as she closed the door. Sucker.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The flash ended, and the light shining in Sarah's eyes was just light, painfully bright. That wasn't why she was wincing, though.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Sucker.</em>
      </p>
      <p>"They suckered you," said Mary's voice, in one ear. Offered her something huge, the biggest thing in her world but they couldn't have known that, in exchange for something small. The surest sign a game was going on, and she fell for it anyway.</p>
      <p>"I taught you all the cons," said her father's voice, in the other. He didn't give them fancy names, like they did in the movies, but she knew them all.</p>
      <p>"So I'd never be a sucker," said Sarah, breathlessly. But she <em>was</em> one, just the same. Learning all the cons didn't do a damn thing to prepare her for all the truths out there, like Chuck. So alert for lies, she'd been completely blindsided by Chuck's openness and honesty. She'd been completely unprepared for a world where the lies she lived in and relied upon simply didn't exist, and couldn't be told. She'd had to learn to walk again, leaning on him, something real. Then someone stole her crutch and she fell. Over and over, and each time he helped her to stand again. Lessons learned but not the most important one, it seemed.</p>
      <p>They couldn't take away her crutch if she didn't have a crutch.</p>
      <p>"Better," said the person behind her, as if she could hear all the voices speaking in Sarah's head. Another card flashed before her eyes.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You think the ball is under <em>which</em> cup?" she asked the stuffed giraffe. "This one?" She turned the plastic tea cup over. No ball. "You see," she said, turning over the other cups, "The ball isn't under any cup. It's really in my pocket." She pulled it out and showed them. "Like my daddy says, once you know all the cons, you'll never be a sucker."</p>
      <p>She heard voices in the yard, angry ones, and she went to look out the window.</p>
      <p>"Your daughter needs a father!"</p>
      <p>"She can count on me."</p>
      <p>She could count on her father, of course she could. He was teaching her the cons, so she'd never be a sucker. She didn't want to be a sucker, it sounded like such a bad thing when her daddy said it.</p>
      <p>She climbed out the window, her most precious possessions in a pillowcase, and threw herself into his car as he tried to drive away. "I don't want to live with grandma. I'm coming with you." Grandma never went on adventures. She knew Grandma loved her, well, she was pretty sure. A lot of the things Grandma told her sounded a lot like being a sucker so she wasn't totally sure, and she wanted to have adventures. Just being with her daddy was an adventure, he was someone new every week, maybe even every day.</p>
      <p>She wished she could do that.</p>
      <p>He didn't look happy. "I don't think that's a good idea."</p>
      <p>"But I brought this," she said, holding out her piggy bank. It had all her money in the world, and all your money in the world should get you an adventure, right? And then on that adventure she'd get more money, and that would get her another adventure. What a great racket! "You need it, right?"</p>
      <p>She could tell by the look on his face that he did. "I can't sweetie. This is your money." He loved her, he had to. He didn't want to take her money.</p>
      <p>"I know you're good for it," she said, in a tone she usually reserved for suckers, and he looked uncertain. He always said everyone could be a sucker sometimes, maybe this was his time. She pushed harder. "Plus we don't need that money to have an adventure together."</p>
      <p>He smiled, and gave in. Maybe he wanted to be a sucker, just this once. "You're right. All we need is you and me."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The light didn't hurt her eyes this time, she was scowling so. A twenty-year-old pain was new again. "He lied to me!"</p>
      <p>"People do that," said her unseen tormentor casually, as if her heartbreak was nothing of any consequence.</p>
      <p>Her anger ramped up. Chuck would have offered her comfort, with open arms. Chuck wasn't here, and would never see his wife in this state. "He played me! He said we'd have an adventure together, but the next day I was at home again. Grandma didn't even know we were gone. And he took my money!" How could she pay for another adventure without money?</p>
      <p>"He was good for it."</p>
      <p>"No, he wasn't," said the betrayed little girl inside Sarah furiously. "He took my money and went off on adventures without me."</p>
      <p>"You made better ones on your own, without him," said the voice. "And he <em>was</em> good for it, in the end. Didn't you ever wonder how he could give Hannah such a nice wedding with her little budget?"</p>
      <p>It <em>was</em> a nice wedding, even though she'd been sure all the way through it that it was just another con job, with her best non-spy friend as the mark. She'd paid more attention to impending doom than she had to the vows, something else he'd robbed her of. She remembered dancing with her father, discovering it wasn't a con after all. He was doing what she had done long ago, trying to put his vast knowledge of underhanded chicanery to good use, but unlike her, he couldn't keep it up very long. <em>Too much like work.</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah sat at her work station and stared at her screen. The words on it weren't scrolling upward faster than she could read. They weren't even moving as fast as she could type. She took another sip of her tea, not Earl Grey, unfortunately, but that seemed to be putting her to sleep lately.</p>
      <p>Her phone trilled, and she put it on speaker. "Hey Manoosh."</p>
      <p>"You okay? I sensed a disturbance in the Force."</p>
      <p>She smiled at that. "No, just…sitting here staring at my screen and feeling sorry for myself." She'd stayed late last night, and got nothing. She'd come in early this morning, and got nothing. Fortunately she and her new husband–she rubbed the ring on her finger without noticing it–worked in the same building at the same time, otherwise he'd never get a chance to see her.</p>
      <p>"Hey, don't you ever sell yourself short–"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Hannah. When people started quoting her to herself she knew she was in trouble. She grabbed a post-it and scribbled a note, sticking it on her monitor. Enough of this crap. Tonight was husband appreciation night. He should be the center of her life, and he was, and it was high time she reminded herself of that fact.</p>
      <p>Of course, she still had to get through the day. "I'm just tired of saying 'I don't know' to the General, that's all. I feel like I'm letting her down."</p>
      <p>"Well, didn't I tell you to not fire on all cylinders all the time," said Manoosh. "You've spoiled her."</p>
      <p>"That's right, blame me just because it's my fault."</p>
      <p>"It's not like you can force yourself to be brilliant," said Manoosh with a little less cynicism. "You should go out with the hubby, do something non-work-related, and you'll probably wake up with the answer. That's what I do, except for the whole 'going out with someone else' part."</p>
      <p>"Have you ever tried?"</p>
      <p>"I have high standards!" <em>Especially now.</em> "It's not my fault that all the best girls are already taken. Anyway, enough about me," he said in self-defense. "What was the problem again?"</p>
      <p>She sighed. "White male, dark hair, shorter than Casey, wider than Casey–"</p>
      <p>"That's helpful."</p>
      <p>"Apparently kidnaps Chuck, possibly arranges to kill Sarah, unless the Guan Yi did it, then changes his mind and arranges to kill everyone <em>but</em> Sarah, unless the Guan Yi did <em>that</em>…"</p>
      <p>"Why does it have to be about Sarah?" asked Manoosh, suddenly. Hannah was always going on about Sarah.</p>
      <p>Hannah jumped on that thought. Anything was better than the nothing she had. "What do you mean?"</p>
      <p>What <em>did</em> he mean? "I mean, don't ask why someone took Sar-Agent Bartowski out of the trap, ask why they left Agent Miller in it."</p>
      <p>"And Casey," said Hannah absently, considering that question in her head.</p>
      <p>"You've met Casey, right?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah."</p>
      <p>"Then you know why someone would leave him in the trap," said Manoosh. "But okay, for your sake, Casey and Miller. What did they do, or not do, that someone would leave them to die?"</p>
      <p><em>Oh.</em> "Of course."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Who are you?" said Sarah in her most dangerous voice, the one that sounded like nothing at all. "And how do you know about Hannah?"</p>
      <p>"The same way I know everything else about your life, Mrs. Bartowski." The voice got all silken and condescending. "Such a good friend she's been to you."</p>
      <p>Poison and pens, Rafe Gruber. Volkoff. Such bravery, such terror. Uncountable late-night conversations about, oh, anything. The wedding of her dreams. Her good friend. H\The rage just rocketed along, her friend her wedding her money hers hers hers–"No one touches what's mine," snarled Sarah, savagely jerking against whatever held her to the chair, only to hurt herself in the process.</p>
      <p>"Better." Someone pulled her hair, and showed her another card.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>She rode a bicycle in Butte, Montana, one adventure coming up. Not really much of an adventure, though, she'd pulled this stunt too many times. Now it was just work. The armored car was huge, and she calculated how far from it she could be, to be out of sight of the driver while being as far from the truck as she could be. This bit was getting old, or she was getting too old, too tall, for this bit.</p>
      <p>The truck jerked into gear, but hadn't moved more than an foot before she screamed loud enough to be heard over the engine. She pitched off the cheap bike, making sure to shove it under the tires.</p>
      <p>Screaming, yelling, running, yeah, yeah, yeah. She lay still, counting out the steps in her head. Keys-door-money-car, and…"I'm a doctor." And they believed him. They wanted to believe him. Like she'd wanted to believe him, once.</p>
      <p>She wasn't that girl anymore. First she'd had adventures, then she'd had experiences, and now? Now she had jobs. Big jobs. Her father had seen what she could do and used it to pull off much bigger cons than he used to, or, like this armored car, simple grand larceny. He lived better than ever, for a while, but the money always ran out.</p>
      <p>Her ribs didn't hurt, but her wrist did. The truck had been too close. This stunt would have to be retired, too bad. Didn't matter, he'd think up something else, he always did. She had that much faith in him, at least.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The flash ended with Sarah looking into the light, blinking slowly. Her wrist hurt, a memory of a long-ago pain, but her father had taught her to ignore pain. Someone was rubbing her wrist, and she looked down. It was her own hand, throttling the pain away. She was loose, she was…free.</p>
      <p>The feet moved around in front of her again, and she knew that whoever stood above those feet was assessing her, but she didn't care. "I want…" she said quietly, deliberately, as if her wants were the most important things in the world, "…some ice cream."</p>
      <p>The feet walked forward, light illuminating the legs, the waist, the body, but Sarah didn't look up that far. She was tired, she couldn't raise her head, she could only look down, watch herself soothe away her own pain.</p>
      <p>The speaker crouched down before her, and reached out a hand to take Sarah's chin lightly between her fingers, raising her face up gently. Blue eyes gazed into blue eyes. <em>There you are. Your father's daughter.</em> "Better," said Agent Walker.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah opened her eyes, wide awake in bed, listening. Not a sound. Either Orion had closed the door to his basement (assuming said door was soundproof) or he'd gone to bed. With Mary gone Sarah doubted he had many other activities. Still, she reached out and snagged the microphone half of the baby monitor and turned it off, just to be on the safe side.</p>
      <p>Mary, gone to Japan. With her team (<em>mine!</em>), in <em>her</em> place (<em>mine!</em>), and no one could fault her for that decision. So right, yet it felt so very wrong. Sarah made a mental note to check the news once she was on her way to…where? No idea. She felt an impulse to move, so she moved, sitting up in the bed and swinging her legs to the side. She wasn't tired, not anymore, and soreness was something to be ignored. She considered turning on the light, but that would probably set off an alarm somewhere. There was enough moonlight for her purposes.</p>
      <p>The glasses case sat there on the table, next to her phone. <em>You need some help with your thinking</em>. What help would a pair of glasses she couldn't use be?</p>
      <p>She opened the case, took out the glasses, and moved to the window, ignoring her pain. She unfolded the earpieces, and held the glasses in front of her eyes.</p>
      <p><em>Oh.</em> "Of course."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I did a similar bit, Sarah against Sarah, for one of my first fanfictions, but since the whole setup for that story is being undone, I'm taking that idea and moving in a different way. It won't be like what I did with Chuck and Carmichael, either, but that's for next chapter.</p>
    </div>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <p><strong>A/N</strong> A lot of people praise these stories for their 'tweaking' of canon. The problem is that canon is so desperately in need of tweaking. The scriptwriters had a lot of good ideas but even in season three they failed to place or exploit them as well as they might have. I think the loss of Matt Bomer took them by surprise, and forced them to rewrite a lot of stuff at the last minute. Much of that season could have worked, with Bryce Larkin's extensive backstory to fall back on, but with a new character it just wouldn't. They had to develop Shaw at a dead run and didn't manage it well. If they'd dropped the wt/wt stuff Shaw's lack of affect and insanity could have worked. The only reason S3 had any real power, and it had a lot, is because the scriptwriters were very good, and using very powerful tropes, that told the story in spite of the plot. S4 and S5 didn't have those writers, so the stories are mostly just handfuls of sparkly bits embedded in a lot of not so sparkly stuff, to the point where I don't know if 'tweaking' is the right word anymore for the changes I have to make. I'm moving those bits all over the place, trying to find places for them that allow them to contribute to the plot rather than just sit there and sparkle.</p>
    <hr/>
    <p>
      <em>"I'm waiting</em>
      <em>."</em>
    </p>
    <p>
      <em>"He lied to me!"</em>
    </p>
    <p>
      <em>"No one touches what's mine</em>
      <em>."</em>
    </p>
    <p>
      <em>"Of course</em>
      <em>."</em>
    </p>
    <hr/>
    <p>"Vanished?" asked Decker.</p>
    <p>"No, thank God," said Vivian. One of those was enough. Fortunately it was before Decker's time, or she'd not be in the place she was right now, to be sure. "They were quite readily captured." They wouldn't have been if Agent Charles had been leading her men, she was certain of that much.</p>
    <p>Decker shook his head. "Grunts." No real harm done to their plans, except for the non-accomplishment of their immediate goals. "So what's your next step?" he asked, dropping the responsibility, and the blame, on her.</p>
    <p>"Well, we retrieve them, of course," said Vivian, as if it were obvious, but from the expression on his face, that may have been a charitable assumption on her part. "Keep faith with your employees, Mr. Decker, or soon you will find you have none that keep faith with you."</p>
    <p>He didn't care. "Fine," said Decker dismissively. "We'll have them transferred, and they can escape en route, or something. That won't get us any closer to our goals."</p>
    <p>Vivian's phone rang, and she answered it. "Mr. Quinn," she said, eyebrows arching with a surprise she managed to keep out of her voice, and Decker looked very interested. "How nice to hear your voice again. To what do I owe the pleasure? You need a favor? Well, as it happens, I am in need of some assistance myself. Perhaps we can be of service to each other. Yes, I rather thought you might. What can I do for you?"</p>
    <hr/>
    <p>Two nights later…</p>
    <p>
      <em>She ran out onto the balcony, but only his watch remained. 'Come with me if you want him to live.'</em>
    </p>
    <p>She rolled over. No. –flicker–</p>
    <p>
      <em>She ran out of the bathroom, but only a watch and a plastic fork remained. 'You lost him.'</em>
    </p>
    <p>No. She got him back! –flicker–</p>
    <p>'<em>Excuse me.' Chuck pushed the nightmares away. 'Trust me, Sarah.' He kissed her, enclosing her with his arms, a universe just big enough for two. 'Don't do that', came Ellie's voice from somewhere, nowhere, everywhere, commanding obedience, however unwilling.</em></p>
    <p>No? –flicker–</p>
    <p>'<em>This is my special place.' She sat next to him, toes in the sand, boots by her side. The beach was wide and exposed. And bright. The California sun shone, but the air took all the warmth away.</em></p>
    <p>"Chuck?" said Sarah, rolling over under the covers. "My feet are cold." She moved them toward him, so that he could catch them between his own, warming her feet and her heart at the same time. She reached for him, throwing an arm across her chest, snuggling up close.</p>
    <p>She was still cold.</p>
    <p>Her husband's broad, muscular chest was strangely soft, the heat of him, the smell of him, the experience of him was missing. His feet may as well have been crumpled socks, or folds in the blanket, for all the warmth and comfort they gave. "Chuck?"</p>
    <p>"Sarah."</p>
    <p>His voice was soft in her ear, too soft. A whisper in the darkness. She could almost imagine she hadn't heard it at all. Sarah Bartowski knew her man, and whatever wasn't right was most definitely wrong. "Chuck?" she said, waking, trying to sense enemies in the darkness. She pulled against him, and met almost no resistance whatsoever.</p>
    <p>The pillow she clutched to her chest was firm, but not that firm. The T-shirt she'd wrapped around it held traces of him, but the pillow held none of his warmth, so the scent was faint at best. She was alone in the bed, not her bed, just…a bed.</p>
    <p>She hated being alone. It was like pole-vaulting, something she could do if she had to but never a preferred option. She settled against the substitute-him, breathing deeply, to catch what little comfort she could. She didn't want to think about where he might be, what he might be going through right this minute.</p>
    <p><em>Sarah.</em> Not even his voice. More like…like…somewhere in the world he'd spoken her name, and the air wanted to make sure she knew it. Or something. She was no good at those kinds of comparisons.</p>
    <p>She had to get him back.</p>
    <p>The signal in Japan was strong, but the signal in Colorado was close. They'd been fooled by one false signal already, and whoever kidnapped him had stripped off the other two. What if…what if…? She inhaled again, his scent stronger. The 'what ifs' of the world could kill you, or make you wish you were dead.</p>
    <p>What if she'd stuck to her duty in Burbank that day, rather than telling Chuck the truth? No, that was no 'what if', that was more like a 'have you lost your mind.' Her choice, her life. She'd never really had any other options, not since that first date. How could she turn down her very own baggage handler?</p>
    <p>What if she'd never been sent after the Intersect? What if she'd never met Chuck at all? Sarah pulled her covers up, trying not to remember the woman she'd been back then, and succeeding. She hadn't really <em>been</em> a woman back then, just a female agent. If she hadn't met him, probably she'd be dead by now. More dead, that is, all the way dead, with her chocolate-coated miracle wasting away in Burbank. Hmm, chocolate and Chuck…</p>
    <p>Nope, no memories of chocolate-covered Chuck, have to fix that. She called up an old favorite.</p>
    <p>'<em>Fix my phone?' she said. 'Sure,' he said. 'Ah, the Intellicell. Here you go. One little screw, fix you right up.' He gave her the phone back, and their hands touched…</em></p>
    <p>She drifted back to sleep, frowning slightly. Not one, and definitely not little…</p>
    <hr/>
    <p>"Missing?" asked General Beckman. "You have no internal surveillance?"</p>
    <p>"I don't spy on family, General," said Stephen, sounding annoyed.</p>
    <p>"Perhaps you should start," said Beckman. She considered briefly how to get her team back from Japan any faster. She might have to trade favors, something she hated to do. "Do we have any idea where she went?"</p>
    <p><em>What 'we'?</em> "She sent me an image. Whoever bounced it around knew what they were doing, I can't pinpoint a source." He put the image on the screen. "The guy holding him is the guy who was at the maternity ward. Chuck called him Tommy."</p>
    <p>The man with all the bruises certainly looked like Agent Bartowski. "Thomas Delgado." Beckman remembered the report. "Taking his revenge, it seems. Your son was instrumental in his capture some years ago." She looked away from the image. "I'll pass this information to my analytical team. Hopefully we can find her before the rest of her team gets back."</p>
    <p>"Good luck, General." Orion terminated the transmission, and got out his phone, pressing a contact. "Casey? Sarah's in Colorado. Of course I'm sure. Of course she's bugged, what kind of a father-in-law do you think I am?"</p>
    <hr/>
    <p>Today…</p>
    <p>Sarah woke to the sound of a knock on the door. The room was decorated in hotel-bland, which was all right since she was in a hotel room. An upper floor, since being on the ground floor last time made it entirely too easy for bad men to do bad things. She pulled the shirt off the pillow and stuffed it in her suitcase, pulling out a robe, easy to slide out of, with nice pockets to hide whatever she might want to have in her hands. "Who is it?"</p>
    <p>"Concierge," said a man's voice through the door.</p>
    <p>She got her pistol, and her periscope. 'Concierge' was a also a code, meant to be used in hotels like this one, where they were more likely to say 'front desk' than 'concierge'. Gun at the ready, she put the periscope against the peephole, standing safely off to one side in case someone tried to shoot through the door.</p>
    <p>A man, possibly alone, with an ID held up for her to see. She stuffed the scope in her pocket, threw the door open and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into the room in case someone might have been standing out of sight. The man almost shouted but remembered himself in time, keeping his hands up as she pushed him against the wall and slammed the door. "Who are you?" she asked, ignoring the picture and the name on the paper he held.</p>
    <p>"The name's Quinn, Agent Walker," said the man. "Nicholas Quinn. FBI." He held the wallet up, the best fake credentials money could buy, especially when the person he was showing them to couldn't check their authenticity with a phone call.</p>
    <p>She looked it over and backed off. "What are you doing here, Agent Quinn?"</p>
    <p>"I could ask you the same question," he said, putting the wallet away and straightening his coat. "A high-profile target is kidnapped out of this very hotel and I have to wait <em>how long</em> to interview the people he was checked in with?"</p>
    <p>"We had a ransom demand, and my team was ready to handle the matter…"</p>
    <p>"Your team," said Quinn. "Well, I hope someone on your team has some kind of jurisdiction to act in-country 'cause you sure don't."</p>
    <p>"We do," said Sarah, and she left it at that.</p>
    <p>"That's not good enough…"</p>
    <p>"It'll have to do, Mr. Quinn," said Sarah. "Unless you'd rather wake up in that rather comfortable bed over there, with no idea how you got there, and no hope of finding me again."</p>
    <p>"But it'll have to do," grumbled Quinn. "You still haven't answered my question, Walker. Why are you here, now?" As opposed to not-here, then.</p>
    <p>Sarah went back to her suitcase, keeping this Agent Quinn in view the whole time, and put her gear back where it belonged. "The drop was a trap, but it failed. I remained behind due to my injuries while the rest of the team went out-country after Agent Charles."</p>
    <p>"You look okay now," said Quinn, rubbing his shoulder for effect. "You here for the skiing?"</p>
    <p>Sarah slammed the case shut. "I needed a staging area. I have evidence that Charles not only never left the country, he never left Colorado."</p>
    <p>"What evidence?"</p>
    <p>Sarah picked up her phone from the table and called up a photo, handing it to Quinn.</p>
    <p>"That's Charles? He looks like crap. Who's the guy holding his leash?"</p>
    <p>"Thomas Delgado," said Sarah, "A sociopath, and a murderer. He works for a man named Decker, a psychopath and a murderer. I'm pretty sure they're in Denver."</p>
    <p>He handed the phone back. "How?"</p>
    <p>"There was an attempted break-in at an office building there." She answered his 'so what?' before he asked it. "It housed a DARPA facility."</p>
    <p>"DARPA?" asked Quinn incredulously. "Why would a bunch of kidnappers want to piss off the DoD?"</p>
    <p><em>More than them. </em>At this point, the DoD was at the far back of the line. "That's what I'm going to go find out. I can think of a few reasons and none of them are good."</p>
    <p>"I'm coming with you."</p>
    <p>"Of course you are, Mr. Quinn," said Sarah pleasantly. "As you just pointed out, I'm not allowed to operate in-country on my own. Wait outside, in the lobby, wherever. I'll get dressed and be right out."</p>
    <hr/>
    <p>"Good morning," said Sarah politely to the receptionist, showing her CIA credentials. "Agent Charles. I'm here to see the Director."</p>
    <p>The lady behind the desk validated the ID. 'Charles' was on the list of known aliases. "Is he expecting you?"</p>
    <p>Sarah scowled at her. "If he does someone's head will roll."</p>
    <p>The receptionist took the hint and called the Director. He came to the lobby himself and ushered in his famous visitor personally, after a standard weapons check, while Quinn waited in the lobby. As they walked the halls they chatted pleasantly about matters of no importance whatsoever. Only in the Director's office, with his safeguards activated, did either of them feel free to get to the point.</p>
    <p>"What can I do for you, Agent Charles?"</p>
    <p>"I'm here to verify the status of Project Omaha, Director, after your little incursion last night."</p>
    <p>The Director laughed softly. "That was no incursion. We thought it was some kind of a trace-cell mission, to be honest, but those are usually more professional. We caught them before they ever left the roof." He settled back in his chair. "I mean, seriously, who uses air ducts anymore?"</p>
    <p>"I would," said Sarah. "But not here, Clearly they underestimated you in almost every way."</p>
    <p>"Please," said the Director, spraying contempt into the air like a fine mist. "Most of the tools they tried to use were developed here. X-13 gas? Sonic grenades?"</p>
    <p>"How far did they penetrate?"</p>
    <p>He shrugged. "Far enough for us to get some good video."</p>
    <p>"For what?"</p>
    <p>"We don't usually get the chance to see our products in action, Agent Charles, and when we do it's some blotchy recording from a war zone somewhere. This time we got to watch real-time, on the big screen in the panic room. One of the techs lasered up some popcorn."</p>
    <p>She laughed along with him. "So Project Omaha was never in any danger."</p>
    <p>"I'm sure it wouldn't have been," said the Director, swiveling his chair upright, "If we had any project by that name here."</p>
    <p>Sarah didn't even blink. "But if you did have it here, it would be fine."</p>
    <p>"Absolutely," said the Director. "In some ways, it's too bad we have no project by that name here, because I'm sure, in our hands, it would be close to complete by now."</p>
    <p>"I'm sure it would be, if you had it. Too bad it isn't here."</p>
    <p>"Yes, we would have had the perfect facilities for such a project."</p>
    <p>"May I see them?"</p>
    <p>"Why bother?" he asked. "It's just an empty room."</p>
    <p>"I'm sure it is, but I'd hate to feel like I'd come all this way for nothing."</p>
    <p>He nodded. "Ah, yes, 'due diligence' and all that bureaucratic nonsense. Well, I can't let an agent of your caliber go home empty-handed, so perhaps a little tour would be in order."</p>
    <p>The tour was very little. Most of the labs were closed off, with separate airlocks to prevent gas attacks from succeeding. Only one had windows, with a few techs gathered around outside. "What's that?" asked Sarah.</p>
    <p>"Destruction and reclamation," said the Director. "For prototypes, or discontinued projects. But we call it the War Room. Let them 'play' a little, they deserve it." Lights flashed, with accompanying explosions, and the audience oohed and aahed appreciatively.</p>
    <p>"Sounds like a movie in there. This place must be nerd heaven."</p>
    <p>"Don't laugh, we get some of our best ideas from the movies," said the Director, a little miffed. What would a spy queen like her know about nerds? "Except for that laser-sword thing. Never could make that work. Ah, here we are." He stopped in front of a blank wall, and slid his card through the reader. The wall slid aside, revealing a room filled with screens, with shifting symbols moving in what appeared to be a random fashion.</p>
    <p>"Project Omaha?" said Sarah, moving into the room, watching the screens flicker.</p>
    <p>"Um, well, no," said the Director. "This might have been a useable room for that project's early stages, but it's surely moved beyond that by now. If it existed."</p>
    <p>"Interesting symbols," said Sarah, uninterested in maintaining the pretense. "Do you know what they mean?" She moved to the seat at the console in the center of the room.</p>
    <p>Naturally the Director cut her off, politely to be sure. "I can check, Agent Charles," he said, planting his butt in the seat before her. "But I think it's some sort of signal transformation process running right now, probably just random noise." He booted up the system, logged on, and showed her the algorithm, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the symbols flashing all over the room were just meaningless clutter, little more than a high-tech screensaver. "Does this answer your question?" he asked, when he was finished.</p>
    <p>"Yes," said Sarah and the Director slumped in his seat.</p>
    <p>Sarah took her finger away from his neck and moved him out of the way. The Twilight drug was powerful, but the dose in her FRODO was small, so he wouldn't be out for very long. Quickly she pulled up the screen with the symbols. She took the glasses off the top of her head, hidden in plain sight even as they were checking her for weapons, and checked the symbol inside the frame against the list, and found the corresponding screen. She put the Director's chair back and went to the wall, looking for the right panel.</p>
    <p>She pulled it down, just like the screens in the Intersect room at the lab, but this one had a box behind it, with a number of sets of sunglasses inside. She opened her jacket, swapping out the cheap sunglasses she had in her pockets for the heavy frames in the box, and closed the screen, leaving the room looking as it had before. Jacket closed, glasses atop her head as before, she moved back to her position at the Director's side and waited.</p>
    <p>In a few seconds, the Director twitched, and lifted his head. "I think it's some sort of test signal transformation process running right now, probably just random noise."</p>
    <p>"Oh. Okay, well, don't trouble yourself." Sarah flashed him a bright smile. "I was just curious."</p>
    <p>Quinn met her in the lobby as she walked around the scanning station and collected her things from the secure locker. "Everything go alright?" he asked.</p>
    <p>"Oh, yes." Sarah nodded to the receptionist as she went out the door. "Perfectly in order."</p>
    <hr/>
    <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Comments welcome, especially now. This story is diverging significantly, so writing it is slower and less pleasant. Hopefully you liked the changes so far.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="xcontrast">
  <p></p>
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    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p><strong>A/N</strong> This episode is very hard to rewrite, which should surprise no one, but it's surprising me. I lost a week revising my latest novel, and this stuff is too hard to do without total concentration. There wasn't much from this section of canon that I wanted, so I worked on other parts of the story that will be important down the road.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Vanished?"</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"I don't spy on family, General."</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>Project Omaha was never in any danger</em><em>."</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"Perfectly in order</em>
        <em>."</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>General Beckman looked pleased, well, less <em>dis</em>pleased. Her chief analyst had told her she had a new line of investigation nearly two days ago, and made her wait ever since. A little diligence is admirable, but sometimes it was hard to be a General. "You have new information, Hannah?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am," said the analyst, putting a picture on the screen, a grainy blow-up of a fragment of a larger picture. "This man was in the picture Agent Miller took at the club, when Sarah took out that guy Gilles and his cronies." Distaste colored her voice. Gilles deserved what he got. "I tried to run it through Facial Rec on a shielded machine and the system failed again, but this time I captured an alert."</p>
      <p>An alert this man would have received the first time. Beckman drew the natural conclusion. "He knew he'd been discovered, but not identified."</p>
      <p>"Correct. The alert contained the original image, so he'd know when and where he'd been at the time..."</p>
      <p>"And he might have had some way to identify Agent Miller as the one who took it. Didn't Agent Rizzo say her car was attacked by a man with a beard?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am," said Hannah, impressed that a General would remember a detail like that, with all she had to worry about. The details were <em>her</em> job.</p>
      <p>The General was oblivious. <em>Hmm. </em>A cohort, maybe some security cameras, or even just a very good memory. "Do we have any ID on him?"</p>
      <p>"Not locally, but since we were looking for activities in Europe I spread his description around over there, and Interpol has quite a few names," said Hannah, shaking her head. "No photos, of course. Jimmy Doyle, Logan Paget, John McAdams, Sean McAllister, the list goes on. Most common alias is Nicholas Quinn."</p>
      <p>Beckman wasn't thrilled that Interpol had something the NSA didn't. "Do <em>we</em> have anything on any of those?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am." A clear, full-size image appeared on the screen. "I ran the list of aliases through all the databases I can access, and found this file, for Agent Nicholas Quinn, CIA. He was a candidate for Project Omaha, but after Agent Larkin stole it, he was reassigned, and captured in the field. No further data."</p>
      <p>No further data meant he'd erased whatever he could get his hands on. Files like that don't just disappear, especially for someone involved in Omaha, and what a pity that was. An Intersect candidate should be able to get himself out of trouble, but at what cost? Had he been turned? Broken? From the sound of it he'd become not much more than a common freelancer.</p>
      <p>Of course, Mr. Bartowski spent five years in a Buy More, and look at him now. Properly motivated, this Quinn could become an equally dangerous threat, and Beckman doubted that Hannah would waste her time on an item of purely historical interest. "I trust this new information has some bearing on current events?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am. Manoosh pointed out that removing Sarah from the trap was the same as leaving Agent Miller in it, along with Colonel Casey, and that's not even mentioning the ransom…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Sunglasses?" asked the alleged Agent Quinn. "You lied your way into a top secret weapons lab, to steal sunglasses? Why?" He flipped open the earpieces, and the lenses lit with a message: 'No Data.' "What are these?" he said, rather than shoot her. He needed her to get him the data.</p>
      <p>Sarah took the glasses from his hand, and he kept it from clenching around them. "New courier tech, I think. When they kidnapped Agent Charles, the ransom they demanded was a pair of sunglasses we were transporting. Since they didn't get those, it seems to me quite likely that the attack on DARPA was intended to get these from the source." Sarah put the last set of frames in the box, and took a picture of it all, before closing the lid. She pressed her thumb against the panel and it made a click. "Now we have them and they don't. That gives us leverage." She wiped her thumbprint off the panel.</p>
      <p>He made a note to get some bolt-cutters, just in case. "Only if you can find them."</p>
      <p>"They sent me a photo of Agent Charles," said Sarah, calling it up, and she hit reply. "I'll send the image I just took back by the same route."</p>
      <p>"You think they're gonna watch that mailbox?" asked Quinn. He wouldn't.</p>
      <p>"They might." She would.</p>
      <p>"So what do plan to do in the meantime?" Because Agent Walker wouldn't just sit around. She'd have a plan.</p>
      <p>"I'm going to DC," said Sarah. She picked up the box and went to the door of her car. "I know a guy."</p>
      <p>Quinn leaned on the hood. "'You know a guy'?"</p>
      <p>"Well, a girl, actually," said Sarah opening the door. "She knows the guy."</p>
      <p>"I'm coming along," said Quinn, moving to the passenger side. "I can't let you just hand over top secret military tech to a friend of a friend."</p>
      <p>"I wasn't planning to," said Sarah, getting in the car and closing her door. "But this guy's great with tech. I want to see if he can find out what these are for, maybe plant a few surprises in them, just in case things go south and the bastards who took Agent Charles actually get their hands on them."</p>
      <p>Quinn wanted to meet this friend's friend, too. He needed to rebuild his team and could always use another 'guy'. He put on his seat belt. "They'd be fools if they didn't check."</p>
      <p><em>They took Chuck. </em>She let the engine do her roaring for her. "They're already fools."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Vivian checked her watch. "Time, Mr. Decker." She sat back to enjoy the show.</p>
      <p>Clyde smiled with more than his usual malice as he made the phone call. "This is Special Agent Clyde Decker, CIA. Put me through to your Director." He always hated his first name, it made him angry just to hear it, which is why he said it so often. "Director, I have it on good authority that the target of your attempted breach last night was Project Omaha. I need you to lock down those facilities at once. What? Check it out, Director, top to bottom. If Agent Walker's gone rogue and compromised the project, who knows what havoc she could wreak. Call me at this number when you're finished." He rang off. "What do you think, too thick?"</p>
      <p>Vivian's smile matched his for malice. "Next time we'll make sure you have a shovel." The better to bury Sarah Walker with.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah felt her phone buzz in her pocket, the special buzz that indicated a text message, and she pulled it out to check. Not too many people would have this number and all of them were people she wanted to get back to ASAP.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Miss H, need to meet. The Museum, tonight, 8 PM. Mrs. Anderson.</em>
      </p>
      <p>Okay, not what she expected. All the people she knew, knew she wasn't an agent. She didn't know anyone named Anderson, but she did know how many museums there were in the DC area. So who was expecting to meet who, where? She pushed a button on her monitor. "General Beckman."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At Denver International Airport, just before boarding…</p>
      <p>Quinn looked at the message on his screen, not understanding any of it, which was the clear intent. Damn bitch kept her messages in code even over a secure phone! It took less than a minute to make it unsecure but what a nightmare getting that fraction was. <em>Mrs. Anderson.</em> He understood that, but nothing else. There was a new power couple in the CIA, back before he'd been broken. They were expected to take over from the CIA's old power couple, but he hadn't heard anything about either one for a couple of years now, and now he knew why. Mrs. Anderson had become Mrs. Carmichael, and then she was with Volkoff, and then she was with Charles. And now she was with him. She just didn't know it yet.</p>
      <p>He pulled out his phone and called a contact. "We got nothing," he said, reading the short text. "You got any idea how many museums there are in DC? We'll just have to wait until she commits. Don't worry, she trusts me. I'll have ears on her the whole time."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck sat in his chair on the airplane ride home from Japan, laptop atop lap, fingers occasionally rattling away with machine-gun speeds as he caught up on his overdue responsibilities as the Intersect.</p>
      <p>Casey and Carina were at the far end of the plane, getting drinks. "Look at him," muttered Casey.</p>
      <p>Carina nodded. "He's a wreck. He's not even boozing it up like usual!"</p>
      <p>"<em>My</em> son?" asked Mary.</p>
      <p>Busted. Carina turned to Casey. "Do me a favor, throw your drink in my face."</p>
      <p>Talk about an offer he couldn't refuse.</p>
      <p>"Oh my," said Carina with exaggerated shock, wiping Scotch out of her eyes. "I'd better go clean up." She moved around to the Colonel's far side and escaped to the bathroom.</p>
      <p>"What was that all about?" asked Mary.</p>
      <p>"Who cares, it was fun," said Casey, going to get himself another drink. "When Chuck's in hacker mode he's pretty hard on the Chardonnay, but you'd never know it. That's all Miller meant."</p>
      <p>"You could have just said that, rather than waste good Scotch."</p>
      <p>For some purposes, Scotch is best applied on the outside. "Your point being…?"</p>
      <p>Mary shook her head, and dropped the subject. They watched her son, apparently oblivious to them, to everything. "He's so different from his father," said Mary. "Stephen hacks like he breathes, no need for artificial enhancements." The hard part's getting him to stop.</p>
      <p>"So I guess the spy abilities weren't the only thing Chuck got from your side of the family," said Casey. Interesting place to find a conscience. Her phone went off, and she went to answer it. He watched Chuck work, a bit envious. If it had been Gertrude, off on her own, no backup, every gun he had would be cleaned three times by now, but nothing more useful than that. "I can't wait to get these two back together, so we can finish our mission."</p>
      <p>Mary hung up. "That won't happen today, Colonel. Stephen says her signal is in DC now."</p>
      <p>"Great." Casey got out his phone to tell the General, but Carina came back before he could make a call, dressed in a professional outfit. "Look at you, dressed like a grown-up."</p>
      <p>"Stow it Casey," said Carina. "I just got a call from General Beckman, for this leg of the mission I'm taking point."'</p>
      <p>Casey grunted in pain, and both women gave him a look. "Nope," he said. "Not gonna say it."</p>
      <p>"Thank you," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"We don't need to go to Denver anymore," said Mary. "Sarah's moved on."</p>
      <p>"Yes, but she's left a doozy of a mess for us to clean up. She just robbed DARPA."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Mr. Depak."</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked up at his left monitor. "Yes, General?"</p>
      <p>"We have a situation, Mr. Depak, involving the glasses we use to house the Intersect."</p>
      <p>"What kind of situation?" Manoosh began to sweat. He was alone in the lab, blessedly free of any and all 'situations'. Getting chased halfway around the world by the Ring, almost killed at WeapCon, and then 'rescued' by Colonel Casey left him with an aversion to…those things.</p>
      <p>In spite of herself, General Beckman sounded both amused and impressed. "Somehow, Sarah connived her way past the Director of Research at a DARPA facility, and stole all the available sets of Intersect glasses they had from under his nose."</p>
      <p>"What do you mean, 'all'?" asked Manoosh. "Our glasses are custom jobs, but we can reuse them. Only the chips burn out. The glasses are all inventoried, and none are unaccounted for." Which meant these weren't their glasses, which meant...</p>
      <p>"Believe me, Mr. Depak, a rogue Intersect operation has the highest priority, which is why you will be briefing the FBI, as our subject matter expert."</p>
      <p>"Me?"</p>
      <p>"Even Ellie defers to your expertise when it comes to the glasses, and in any event she is on maternity leave."</p>
      <p>"But…the FBI?"</p>
      <p>"Agent Miller is currently AoS, but this isn't a matter for the DEA. There is an FBI agent who has been read in. Agent McHugh will be taking the lead in the investigation once she arrives."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"That was pleasant." Carina and her team walked out of the Federal office building in Denver, with a few answers, many more questions, and one, and only one, pair of cheap sunglasses, from the box that the Director had allowed them to see <em>in situ</em>. Carina had to seal it in an evidence bag and let him cosign it, before he would let her take it with her. As partners to the thief, they were not be trusted, but as Casey pointed out, given the classified nature of the project, no one allowed to be involved in the investigation would be neutral. "This guy Decker is really out for your blood."</p>
      <p>Chuck had flashed on the name the instant the Director said it, and knew far more than he cared to about the man who'd made a specialty of cleaning up other people's messes. "First Ellie, and now Sarah? Believe me, I'm out for his as well."</p>
      <p>They climbed into the rented car and drove back the airport for the trip to DC.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Yes, Director, what do you have for me?" asked Agent Decker. "They were, huh? I told you they would be, that's their pattern. She comes in after the burglars, they come in after her, and by the time the real authorities show up, the chain of evidence is too muddy to use. It's classic." He smiled, and Vivian smiled back. "You have someone watching the room, I hope, someone you can trust? Oh, you're in there right now? That's good, Director. In fact that's excellent."</p>
      <p>Decker pushed a button on his detonator.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The Museum, 8 PM…</p>
      <p>Sarah sat outside the museum with Quinn, watching the crowd. A lot of people going in and out.</p>
      <p>"You think she'll show, this friend of yours?" asked Quinn.</p>
      <p>"She's never let me down before," said Sarah. A bus pulled up in front of the building, on time for once, releasing a swarm of passengers onto the steps. "I see her." She got out of the car, doing a mike check with Quinn, so he'd be able to hear every word. She walked slowly, so that everybody would have a good chance to spread out inside the building.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah walked through the front doors of Dumbarton Oaks, feeling vaguely foolish. They said she'd have backup, but none of the people on the bus seemed to notice her, which was probably what they were supposed to do. She had on her own clothes, thank God, but they made her wear a wispy scarf fluffed up to her chin. They'd said it was because the mouth and jaw were much better for identifying a person than the eyes, but then they gave her tinted lenses at night, for God's sake. And these shoes! How was she supposed to make contact when they'd made her look so different?</p>
      <p>"Hello, Miss H."</p>
      <p>Hannah barely glanced to her left. A tall brown-eyed woman stood a few feet away, apparently fascinated by a jewelry case, but she recognized Sarah's chin and jaw. No one was near them, being carefully steered away by her backup team. She kept her voice low anyway. "Mrs. Anderson."</p>
      <p>"Please, since my beloved husband Daniel passed away, I've gone back to using my maiden name."</p>
      <p>Her 'beloved husband' being Daniel Anderson, as played by Daniel Shaw, who was also known as Charles Carmichael to most of the CIA. "I understand, Miss Walker."</p>
      <p>"Thank you. I need you to set up a meeting for me with Mister D, as soon as it can be arranged."</p>
      <p>"Mister D," said Hannah in an undertone, just loud enough to be heard by the people listening in on her microphone, hidden under the scarf.</p>
      <p>"Remind her that this Mister D is a famous recluse, and will demand extra security if she wants to meet in person," said General Beckman, a generic response until they could figure out who Mister D was supposed to be. "That will tell us how important this information is."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Mr. Delgado says he knows of no one by that name, Mr. Quinn, but he'll 'turn over a few rocks' on our behalf," said Vivian.</p>
      <p>Quinn clicked twice, and went back to listening.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah cleared her throat twice to acknowledge the instructions. "Mister D doesn't take well to strangers," she said to 'Miss Walker'. "You can talk to me."</p>
      <p>"No," said Sarah. "I can't."</p>
      <p>Hannah sighed, listening to her handler's instructions. "If you insist. I'll make the arrangements. You will be prepared to come when I call, alone. If you cause any trouble in any way, you will see nothing and no one, is that understood?"</p>
      <p>"Perfectly."</p>
      <p>"Well done, Hannah, now turn around," said General Beckman. "Walk away, right now."</p>
      <p>Hannah started to turn, and stopped. "Why do you not go to your employer?"</p>
      <p>Sarah considered her reply. The fact that she <em>was</em> going to her employer obviously couldn't be mentioned, so it was a valid point. Tommy Delgado was former Fulcrum, a rogue cell inside the CIA, so she could legitimately claim the CIA was unreliable, but 'her employer' was always unreliable in that way.</p>
      <p>Her employer. Her mission. The greater good. Not this time.</p>
      <p>This time was hers. <em>Mine. </em>Sarah flashed a dark glance at her friend, who foolishly had not walked away when she'd been told to, and Hannah took a step back. "It's personal."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Okay," muttered Hannah as she walked out of the museum, only because she couldn't run in those shoes. "I am now officially creeped out."</p>
      <p>"You should be pitying her enemies," said Beckman.</p>
      <p>If there was one thing Hannah wasn't going to waste her pity on, it was whoever earned the wrath of Sarah Bartowski. "What do I do now?"</p>
      <p>"There should be a cab pulling up right now. A tall man with white hair will get out and offer to hold it for you. Thank him for being a gentleman, and get in."</p>
      <p><em>Thank you for being a gentleman.</em> "Is that the countersign?"</p>
      <p>"No, just courtesy."</p>
      <p>Just then a taxi pulled up, and a tall white-haired man got out, dressed appropriately for the venue. He smiled when he saw her, hinting at a lifetime of experience coupled with the enthusiasm of youth. "If I may have the honor?" he asked in a warm baritone, handing her into the back of the cab.</p>
      <p>His voice. His touch. His scent. "Such a gentleman." Even the closing of the door was smooth and melodious the way he did it. She stared out the window, watching him elegantly mount the steps, and breathed, "Wow."</p>
      <p>"He's taken," growled Beckman.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>All the aliases were roles that Angus McFayden has played.</p>
      <p>Comments welcome.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> Trying to turn Chuck vs Sarah into a romantic comedy is a lot harder than it looks. I have no idea what to do about the Goodbye. I just rewatched it for the first time since it aired. I may have to write a totally new episode, when the whole point of this is to color between the lines of the original.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Sunglasses?"</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"They're already fools."</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>Sarah's moved on</em><em>."</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"It's personal</em>
        <em>."</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah Bartowski lay on the bed, not sleeping, one arm over her eyes, shielding them as the light from the other room aggravated her slight headache. "<em>This is my special place." She sat next to him, toes in the sand, boots by her side. The beach was wide and exposed. And bright. The California sun shone, and she was warm. </em>Too warm, maybe? Was that a pregnancy thing, or was she getting sick? Rotten timing, if she was.</p>
      <p>Her other hand traced little circles on her belly. She couldn't feel much, perhaps a little firmer if she pressed in just the right spot. She imagined that those were Chuck's fingers, probing at her, perhaps freaking out and wondering if he was pushing too hard, because he was Chuck and would always worry about hurting her, hurting anyone. She would tell him no, he wasn't pushing too hard, and to remember she was a spy who did a lot of exercise and she was trying really hard to relax her stomach muscles so he could feel anything at all.</p>
      <p>She spread her hands, splayed her fingers out like he would, if not quite as widely, as he marveled at how she was already protecting their daughter, or at least their daughter-for-now. <em>"R</em><em>ight now it's a 'her'. Did you know that? All babies start out as girls and some morph into boys as they develop?"</em> And she'd say yes, she remembered that he'd said that before, and then they'd wonder how Ellie was doing with Clara. They'd wonder if their baby would be as beautiful as Clara and Chuck would say she'd be beautifuller and then wonder if that was a word, and she'd call him a nerd.</p>
      <p>Sarah sighed, tracing circles on her belly. Her nerd.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What do you think she's doing right now?" asked Chuck, as they flew back to DC.</p>
      <p>"If it isn't 'running', it's the wrong thing," said Casey. "She stole property of the US government, from a top-secret facility, and you know Decker is going to paint that as black as he can."</p>
      <p>"She stole it to protect Chuck," said Mary.</p>
      <p>"That'll mean an awful lot to a Congressional committee," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"And she was protecting the glasses," added Carina. "We know they wanted them, and it's pretty obvious the security had holes." Attempted theft was a crime, successful theft was an example. "With that picture, we can even claim duress."</p>
      <p>The Devil's Advocate grunted a reluctant agreement. "Well, if that's our story, we'd better get busy selling it to the General so she can sell it to the Powers That Be."</p>
      <p>One sale to the General later…</p>
      <p>"That's a good cover story, Team, but it doesn't quite jibe with the current situation," said Beckman. "I just returned from a field exercise with Hannah."</p>
      <p>"You were in the field?" asked Chuck. "How long since that's happened?"</p>
      <p>His commanding officer pinned him with a glare. "What are you implying?"</p>
      <p>"Nothing, General," said Chuck quickly. "I'm just saying it must have been a pleasant change after all your time in the office."</p>
      <p>"It was refreshing," said Beckman. "Sarah set up the meet, but she didn't come in. Instead, she wants us to set up a meet with a 'Mister D', probably about these glasses. She was very cryptic, hopefully when we get the meeting set up she can brief us properly. I don't suppose 'Mister D' is an alias any of you is aware of."</p>
      <p>Glances were exchanged, but that buck stopped nowhere. Beckman sighed. "Give it some thought, please. I can't imagine she meant <em>nothing</em> by it. We'll keep on with our more generic arrangements anyway. Dismissed."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh kicked open the door to his lair, his haven, and threw his coat against the wall.</p>
      <p>The evening had been less than a total success. Agent McHugh had been read in on the project but didn't know where the lab was or how to get there, and she'd arranged to meet him at a secure location elsewhere, a restaurant.</p>
      <p>That had sounded like a date. Was it a date? Or was it just…eating? Eating with possible date-hood?</p>
      <p>Should he ask Hannah?</p>
      <p>No. Don't ask Hannah.</p>
      <p>He really could have used Chuck's input on this, but since this whole thing had started with Chuck's kidnapping, that wasn't in the cards. Maybe <em>Ellie</em> would know how he should dress for a quasi-date? She'd practically raised Chuck, she could give him the same advice. If he asked.</p>
      <p>He'd asked. Well, sort of asked. He'd gotten as far as 'girl' and 'restaurant', and she was off and running. No wonder Chuck scored a Goddess, with her as his wingman. It wasn't like Manoosh had a lot of dating clothes, but eventually he looked as good as he could, all things considered, and Ellie wished him luck.</p>
      <p>The eating part of the evening went well. No nacho sampler on the menu but he could live with that. Agent McHugh was young for this assignment, and beautiful, and young, and single, and young…and really smart. She understood his briefing perfectly. He didn't have to explain anything several times. He could even mention a movie, or a game, or some other bit of nerd lore and she would get it. She understood him, she grokked his essence. She was wonderful, she was…</p>
      <p>Perfect.</p>
      <p>The eating and the talking was over far too soon, not that he cared what time it was, anytime would have been too soon. She had to go, she was on a case. How could he get to see her after the case? Maybe he could…ask for her number? That would be okay, wouldn't it, not like the asset-hell Chuck went through? He turned around to say something that hopefully didn't sound too incoherent and the night came crashing down in ruins.</p>
      <p>She was kissing someone. Just a peck on the cheek, but she was giving it to a short, bearded troll. A short, bearded, suit-wearing troll. The troglodyte from Vail, with the dreadlock hat and all the selfies. Agent McHugh was the ski bunny in the pictures, her face no longer red from cold, or scrunched up from squinting in the bright sun. The <em>girlfriend</em>. He heard her speak the troll's name, getting more physically ill with each drawn out syllable. He couldn't get back to the lab fast enough.</p>
      <p>He needed code. Code was beautiful. Code was safe, code didn't have nasty stupid boyfriends that didn't appreciate it properly, the way he would. Did. Maybe he could build a virus, that would propagate through all the cell phones of the world and eat selfies, that'd show him.</p>
      <p>A light blinked on his phone, General Beckman reminding him to update her when he got back. Fine, the virus could wait. He sat at his desk and pushed the button. "General Beckman."</p>
      <p>Surprisingly, her screen lit immediately. "Good evening, Mr. De–Mr. Depak. What can I do for you?"</p>
      <p>She forgot her own message? "You asked me to report when I got in, General. After the briefing?"</p>
      <p>The General got a thoughtful look, and Manoosh was reminded of Ellie's concerns about officers looking thoughtful. "I trust it went well. You seem…vexed."</p>
      <p>"As well as it could have gone, I guess."</p>
      <p>"Good," said Beckman, clearly aware that it wasn't at all good. "But you'll have to write your report on it later. Right now, I have a new mission for you, Mr. Depak, a very high-priority mission."</p>
      <p>A mission would be better than a virus. Lots of innocent selfies out there. The <em>boyfriend</em> didn't go on missions, did he? "When and where, General?"</p>
      <p>She nodded approvingly. "Right now. I'll have your driver turn around. Be ready, Mr. Depak."</p>
      <p>He tried to sound ready. "I will, General."</p>
      <p>The screen went black, and Manoosh leapt to his feet, clapping his hands together. <em>This is gonna be great!</em> He turned, automatically reaching for his chair but it wasn't there. It had rolled across the floor and hit a cabinet, and a set of Intersect glasses had fallen to the floor. Again.</p>
      <p>He picked them up and tossed them onto his desk, running back to his room for his coat. He had to get ready. Had to <em>be</em> ready.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Did you see this?" asked Nicholas Quinn, as Sarah came into the room. He gestured at the TV, and some program masquerading as news. "The Japanese are going apesh–uh, nuts over a terrorist attack by some Chinese Mafia guys. Tried to blow up a train."</p>
      <p>The screen showed the side of a mountain, as seen by a helicopter, with scattered wreckage slashing diagonally across the entire slope, some of it still burning, and the remains of a car at the bottom. From the look of things, one car, presumably the last one, had cartwheeled off the tracks at high speed.</p>
      <p>"They didn't do a very good job of it," said Sarah calmly.</p>
      <p>"We had a commando team on the train, they said. Chased the bad guys into the baggage car. Nobody got hurt except the bad guys." He chuckled. "The Japs are pissed, though."</p>
      <p>"Why?" asked Sarah, not that she needed the explanation.</p>
      <p>"A foreign military team on Japanese soil, foiling a plot they didn't even know about? You can bet they're pissed, no matter how much they bow and smile. The official line is that it was a joint op, but they're already playing up some clerk, all he did was stick his hand up and keep one of the commandos from falling over."</p>
      <p>"But he's Japanese, that's all that counts."</p>
      <p>"Local boy makes good," agreed Quinn sourly. "They're really pushing the 'falling over' part, too, make our guys look like a bunch of klutzes." Sarah's phone chimed, giving him an excuse to turn the TV off before he had to see the guy's face again. "That her?"</p>
      <p>Sarah took one look at the screen and went to get her coat, contact lenses already in place. "I'll be back as soon as I can."</p>
      <p>He watched unhappily as she picked up the box. "You sure you don't want backup?" he asked, like a good little partner.</p>
      <p>"He's a geek, Quinn," said Sarah. "I'll have eyes on him the whole time, the box will never leave my sight."</p>
      <p>"Even geeks can have guns," said Quinn. "Or bodyguards."</p>
      <p>"He won't risk it. He gets bored easily." She held up the box. New tech is new tech. "Honestly, I'm more worried about Miss H, and she's a sweetheart."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah stuck a hand carrying a hood in front of Sarah's face the second she sat in the car. "Sit down, shut up, and put this on," she said, sounding no-nonsense and slightly annoyed. She had a lot of practice with that one back at Castle.</p>
      <p>Sarah took the hood and put it on, while Hannah pulled into traffic. "And here I told my partner you were a sweetheart."</p>
      <p>"Sweethearts don't make good gatekeepers," said Hannah. She drove for a while, following a mostly random route toward the place where Beckman waited. "Where's this partner now? Who is he?"</p>
      <p>"How is that any of your business?" said Sarah, playing her part.</p>
      <p>Hannah checked her mirrors, but all she saw were lights. "As long as he's not following us."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"–<em>not following us."</em></p>
      <p>Quinn curled his lip at her idiotic statement. Who needed to follow anyone anymore, when they had so many nice tags and tracers that you could track them from three blocks away?</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Why would that matter?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Because Mister D can <em>block</em> bugs," said Hannah.</p>
      <p>Sarah looked through the panel in the front of the hood, seeing her friend reach out to press a button on the dashboard of the car.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The screen on Quinn's tracker started flashing red, as the signal it had been told to follow suddenly vanished. "Goddammit!" She had a signal suppressor <em>for a car?</em> In traffic? Granted, it was pretty light traffic at this hour, but still…He raised his radio, faster than a phone for this purpose. "I lost them! I lost them!" he shouted. "Take 'em down now!" Before they could get away with his destiny.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Aahh!" screamed Sarah, clutching at her head.</p>
      <p>Hannah swerved violently as she looked at her shrieking passenger. "Sarah?"</p>
      <p>"Stop it!" Hands tore at the bag, tore at blonde hair. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"</p>
      <p>Hannah reached out and killed the suppressor.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn's tracker beeped, happy again.</p>
      <p>For a second he just stared at it. <em>Why–?</em> They played him! They played him and he fell for it. He raised his radio a second time. Had to get things under control before it was too late. "Fall back, I say again, fall back! Their suppression is off, I have them again."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"We've got company," said Sarah, spotting the following cars even as they tried to blend in with the scenery.</p>
      <p>"What do we do?" said Hannah, panicking. She looked in her mirrors, but couldn't see anything in all the headlights.</p>
      <p>"Turn here," said Sarah, looking at the GPS. "I'll plot an evasion course. You call Mister D, tell him to bug out." Or send reinforcements, more likely.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quinn heard everything. "Goddammit," he snarled, lifting his radio. "You've been made." The meeting wasn't going to happen now, even if Walker should manage to lose her pursuit. With no place to follow them to, the trackers were useless. Almost. "Chase 'em toward me, I'll move to intercept."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Even Hannah could see it when multiple vehicles suddenly swerved out of lane and accelerated toward them. She turned and turned again, her instinctive move to get out of their line of sight. She reached out and pressed the emergency alert just as she saw the first car turn the corner after her. She floored it.</p>
      <p>Sarah looked up at the sudden burst of speed, just in time to see another car pull into the other end of the street. "Hannah, slow down! We have to turn!" Hannah looked ahead and saw the roadblock. Sarah pointed to a side street, and with no time to spare Hannah turned the wheel and prayed.</p>
      <p>If it hadn't been for the car parked illegally, she would have made it.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh sat in the back of the van, trying to get into character. What would a person named Mister D sound like? He cleared his throat, but his voice didn't cooperate and suddenly drop an octave.</p>
      <p>Something started beeping in the front of the car, and outside everyone started moving, swarming into vehicles. Beckman personally told the driver of Manoosh's car to take him back to the lab, as she headed for her own car. Manoosh rolled down his window. "General, what's happening?"</p>
      <p>She took pity on him. "We're aborting the operation. Their emergency beacon went off and we have to extract." She said nothing more as her car sped away.</p>
      <p>The emergency alert. Hannah's alert, in Hannah's car. She was in danger, her and Agent Bartowski, and the General was sending him away while they all raced to the rescue. He was racing back to the lab, useless. He stared out the window, watching the buildings move past, but what could he do?</p>
      <p>He stared at himself in the glass, the ghostly voice of power whispering in his ear. <em>You </em>know<em> what you can do.</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>She raised her head slowly.</p>
      <p>"Are you all right, Hannah?" asked General Beckman.</p>
      <p>That's right, her name was Hannah.<em> Ow.</em> "Fine, General. What are you doing here so soon?"</p>
      <p>Beckman's face was grim. "We're not soon, Hannah, we're far too late." She held out her hand, with something small and dart-like in it. "You were tranqed, probably so you wouldn't interfere as they took Sarah away."</p>
      <p>Hannah turned her head–<em>ow!</em>–and looked where her friend had been. The door stood open, the seatbelt slit. "Her box is missing, too."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah woke up, tied to a chair. Alone in an empty room, she pulled at the ropes carefully, but she wouldn't be able to get out of this quickly and she doubted they'd leave her alone that long, whoever 'they' were.</p>
      <p>A door opened behind her, and since she hadn't sensed anyone behind her before, she assumed someone was coming into the room and turned to see who it was. The man standing behind her gave her a grin as her eyes widened. "Remember me? The man you left behind?"</p>
      <p>"Agent Quinn?"</p>
      <p>"Not really," he said, his attitude utterly casual as he closed the door quietly, the ice in his drink clinking quietly as he moved. "I am an agent, I was, but not for the FBI. I'm former CIA just like you."</p>
      <p>Sarah's head turned to follow as he walked into the room. "I'm current CIA, thank you very much."</p>
      <p>Quinn laughed at that, picking up the box with her glasses. "Well, maybe, but not for much longer. You did steal these from the DoD, after all."</p>
      <p>"I'd say 'borrowed' is the more appropriate word, Mr. Quinn," said Sarah. "I needed the right kind of bait for my trap."</p>
      <p>"That's all I was, some kind of mark?" asked Quinn, stung right in his professional pride. She was playing him? He was supposed to be playing her!</p>
      <p>"I lied," said Sarah. <em>I do that.</em> "I'm sorry that I did my job too well," she said, her tone oozing sympathetic condescension.</p>
      <p>He glared at her, flushed and angry. "Too well? You call this a trap?" he asked, gesturing at her captive arms. "Great work, you've got us right where we want you."</p>
      <p>Sarah pounced, laughing. "One man is hardly a 'we', Mr. Quinn."</p>
      <p>"I'm hardly one man, Agent Walker."</p>
      <p>"I suppose not," said Sarah. "The kind of gross incompetence I've seen so far takes a committee. All this just to get me alone?"</p>
      <p>"Don't flatter yourself," snapped Quinn. "You were a means to an end, Walker, nothing more." He patted the box. "Now I'll be the means to your end. You should be thanking me. The CIA would have used you up and thrown you away too, but my way will be faster and neater." He put a hand in his pocket, coincidentally pushing his jacket back to display his pistol as he took a sip of his drink.</p>
      <p>"If whoever's holding your leash lets you, that is."</p>
      <p>"I have no leash."</p>
      <p>"And yet I'm not dead," said Sarah. "You could have tried to open the box at the crash site, but instead I wake up in a hotel room with a man who thinks boring me to death is the kinder option." He wanted something from her, and Quinn had never struck her as being a particularly patient man.</p>
      <p>Quinn pulled his gun, aiming at her face. "Perhaps I should use this to 'bore you to death' right now."</p>
      <p>"Quinn," said a third voice, suddenly.</p>
      <p>Sarah stared down the large barrel of a large gun, her heart racing, her breathing shallow and rapid. Quinn enjoyed the view. "Not so calm, cool, and collected now, are you?"</p>
      <p>"No, she isn't, Mr. Quinn," said the voice from behind Sarah, calm and disdainful. "But it has nothing to do with you. Agent Walker has simply realized the true magnitude of her error." Vivian Volkoff walked around her prisoner, setting the Norseman down on top of the locked box. "Haven't you, Sarah?"</p>
      <hr/>
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        <strong>A/N2 Comments welcome.</strong>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Plans & Schemes</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> Did anyone else notice that when Sarah walked up onto the beach in canon, she wasn't wearing those ridiculous boots anymore? Hard to walk on sand in those.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>You were in the field?"</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"Be ready, Mr. Depak."</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>Mister D can </em>block<em> bugs.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Haven't you, Miss Walker?"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Miles above the Earth's surface…</p>
      <p>She crept out of the plane's storage compartment, uncommonly silent. Her two targets were only a few meters away, chatting quietly, but she couldn't hear anything over the noise of the plane. Unfortunately only enough of their faces showed to indicate that they were speaking, not enough to be a decent target. She'd have to get closer, find a better angle.</p>
      <p>The seats in the back were good cover, but that cut both ways. She'd have to get to where the hatchway made an open space, dangerously close in such a confined space, with much higher odds of being spotted before she was ready. She'd have a wider angle of fire, but they'd have a clear shot at her as well.</p>
      <p>Suddenly Target One dove across the aisle at Target Two, grabbing a pistol from inside his jacket. She stood up and got off a few shots, but the plane chose that moment to pitch to the right and throw her off balance. She dropped the gun rather than chance a stray shot piercing the plane, and scrambled to get back under cover. "Dammit! You cheated."</p>
      <p>"Did not," said Target Two.</p>
      <p>"I've still got a gun," said Target One. "You going to go for that?" <em>That</em> being her own pistol, lying in the aisle.</p>
      <p>"No."</p>
      <p>"So, what are you going to do, throw your stiletto-heeled boots at me? They're not on your list but we all know you."</p>
      <p>A stealth mission in stiletto-heeled boots? How stupid did he–well, come to think of it, she probably <em>would</em> try something like that. She smiled. "I've got a flash-bang."</p>
      <p>"And I've got a hand to cover my eyes with, so you'll have to do better than that."</p>
      <p>"I can use the grenade to pop the door." No need to go on about the explosive decompression that would follow, or what it would do to them all. Especially her, since was closest to the door and relatively exposed.</p>
      <p>"Does she have a parachute?" muttered Target One, a/k/a Chuck.</p>
      <p>Target Two, i.e., Casey, checked her list. "Yep."</p>
      <p>"Crap," said Chuck, lowering his gun. "Okay, that gets you off the plane, Carina, but I don't see that outcome as being anything but a stalemate."</p>
      <p>"I doubt you have parachutes on your lists," she countered, not standing up. She didn't think Chuck would fall for the monologuing ploy but it was worth a shot. "Death by parachuting without a parachute sounds like a win to me." She looked under the seats, maybe she could crawl forward under them to get her gun, but no. Less room than a bullet train's air duct.</p>
      <p>"She's got a point," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Too many variables," said Mary, watching them play their game, with occasional forays into refereeing their disputes. "You could hit your head on the way out, and fail to open your chute. Casey's still buckled in, and could keep Chuck from getting sucked out."</p>
      <p>Carina blew a wisp of hair from her face. "Fine, stalemate." She stood up. "But I would have won if you hadn't played games with the attitude." She went to pick up her gun.</p>
      <p>"<em>You're</em> complaining about attitude?" said Casey, unbuckling.</p>
      <p>She holstered her empty pistol as she walked up to them. "I am when it isn't mine."</p>
      <p>"Then maybe you should spend less time with the boy-toy and more time with your manuals," said Casey. He flipped open a panel in the arm of the chair. "Remote GNC, in case the bad guys get control of the plane."</p>
      <p>"What'll those guys in R&amp;D think of next?" Carina grumbled, resolving to spend more time with her manuals and less with her boy-toy.</p>
      <p>"Just watch a lot of movies," said Chuck. "That's where they get all their ideas from, don't you know that?"</p>
      <p>"I'll believe that when they issue me a lightsabre."</p>
      <p>"Oh ye of little faith and good reflexes," said Chuck. He looked over her shoulder. "Where were you hiding, anyway? I would have thought Casey and I did a pretty thorough search back there."</p>
      <p>"Not telling," said Carina, as the sign came on, telling them all to prepare for landing. "A girl has to have some secrets." She'd once gotten Sarah clear across the country in a carry-on bag. The secret in this case wasn't the bag so much as what she'd had to do to Sarah to get her into the bag. Blondie hadn't exactly volunteered.</p>
      <p>Chuck practically threw himself into his seat. "About time. It's only been a few days but I feel like I haven't seen Sarah for a couple of weeks now."</p>
      <p>"Believe me…" said Casey, fastening his seatbelt again.</p>
      <p>"<em>We</em> know," finished Carina.</p>
      <p>Once the plane was on the ground they all violated the rules and got out of their seats, doing their best to clean the cabin up before the crew could see it. Not so much the glasses and the napkins as the paintball residue from where they'd shot at each other and missed. Not a single bit was on any exterior wall, of course. Knocking the plane out of the sky would be an automatic loss for whoever did it. Talk about embarrassing.</p>
      <p>The door opened even before the plane finished moving, and armed men boarded. "No one move," said their commander. "Military police." As if the big MP armbands hadn't already given them away.</p>
      <p>Chuck dropped his spotted towel on the table. "What's up, guys?"</p>
      <p>"Agent Charles, you are under arrest," said the officer, consulting a list. "Agent Miller, Colonel Casey, you two as well."</p>
      <p>"On what charge?" asked Chuck, as armed men moved to separate the team and take their weapons.</p>
      <p>"For complicity in the destruction of a Federal facility in Denver, and the death of the Director."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere else in DC…</p>
      <p>"Now then," said Vivian brightly, settling against the desk. A very interesting posture, looking down upon her adversary like this. She could see why Mr. Decker liked it. "What shall we talk about?"</p>
      <p>"I'm sure I don't know," said Sarah, rather automatically.</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Vivian, looking from her to Quinn and back. "Am I interrupting? I'm very sorry if I am, but to be honest, I thought you might be in need of a bit of a rescue." She waved a hand negligently. "I've been cornered by more than a few boring old fuddy-duddies at society parties, my, how they drone. All Mr. Quinn seems to want to talk about, for example, is torture. He seems to be quite an expert on the subject, a product, I understand, of his time in captivity." Vivian smiled.</p>
      <p>Quinn shifted slightly, frowning. He'd never signed on to do any torturing, but until he got his glasses and his destiny, he'd do whatever he had to do. He'd settle accounts with Vivian later.</p>
      <p>"You don't need to do that," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"I know, dear," said Vivian. "But my father was quite taken with it, and what it revealed about a person. You remember my father, don't you, Agent Walker? The man who aided you in rescuing your husband? The man you repaid by so cruelly wiping him from existence?"</p>
      <p>"It wasn't cruel to Hartley."</p>
      <p>"It was cruel to me," said Vivian softly. Very softly. Sarah knew that tone of voice well. Vivian's hand settled lightly on the Norseman, familiar with the grip. "But," she said, sweeping the weapon up and laying it in her lap, "All is not lost, as Mr. Decker reminded me. With these glasses, all the wrongs you've done me can be righted."</p>
      <p>"Mr. Decker talks too much," said Sarah, her gaze on the weapon, rather than the wielder.</p>
      <p>"True," said Vivian, stroking her prized possession like a pet. "But useful. So many things about my father that I should have known but didn't. I suppose I should thank you. That was your team on the Contessa that night, I assume, pirating my father's life's work. Incidentally preserving his life's work, although I doubt that was your goal…"</p>
      <p>Sarah shrugged as best she could, attempting to appear casual but Vivian could see the whiteness of her knuckles where Sarah gripped the chair. "Hartley didn't know enough, and since the Hydra technically belongs to him–"</p>
      <p>"It belongs to Volkoff!" said Vivian. "It belongs to me. And once it is properly compressed and loaded into these glasses, it will belong to my father again."</p>
      <p>When Chuck had uploaded the Hydra for a short time, he'd become very much like Volkoff in personality. If Hartley were to get such an upload…"You can't be serious."</p>
      <p>"Hmmm, I've never been more <em>deadly</em> serious about anything in my life, wouldn't you say, Mr. Quinn?" Vivian switched hands, so she could touch the box with the glasses as well. "And of course Mr. Quinn has his own use for these glasses. So you'll have a double helping of gratitude coming your way, once you open this box for us."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"There's nothing I can do about it now, Mary," said General Beckman, sounding a bit busy. "My morning meeting with the President just got rescheduled to tonight, and I haven't had a chance to debrief Agent Bartowski yet." Meaning Sarah. Chuck didn't mind being called Agent Charles nearly as much as Sarah hated being called Walker.</p>
      <p>"Why not?" asked Mary, rethinking her plan to go to the General's office if the General wasn't going to be in it. She wasn't on the MP's list of people to arrest, so they didn't. "Weren't you supposed to be meeting with her?"</p>
      <p>"The plan fell through," said Beckman. "Hannah said the suppressor she had in her car caused Sarah a lot of pain when she turned it on, but turning it off again left them vulnerable. Their car was intercepted and both Sarah and her package were removed from the scene."</p>
      <p>Typical, thought Mary. The best laid plans gang aft to crap. <em>Pain?</em> "Any clues to who did it?"</p>
      <p>Beckman lifted a small bag from her briefcase, with a tiny pointy object inside. "Just a tranq dart, used to knock out Hannah." She put it back again.</p>
      <p>"Hm. Clever."</p>
      <p>"Frustratingly so," said Beckman. "The crash brought Metro police into the mix, and the dart makes it look like one of our operations gone awry. You know how they love those."</p>
      <p>Mary knew. Moscow police were pretty much the same. She considered the pattern. Sarah's theft of the glasses was flawless. They couldn't have known about it unless someone told them it had happened, which apparently someone did, almost immediately. Just like someone blew up the lab right after they left. And now this. "You're getting the Death by Inches treatment." A collection of small guerrilla attacks, from a variety of directions, none of which did much harm but the totality of which were fatal. Also known as the Death of a Thousand Cuts, or the Rat Pack. "There's only one response to that." Well, two, but you had to have a pack of rats all your own for the second one.</p>
      <p>Beckman knew the theory. She also knew that in practice, Mary had much less to lose. Beckman liked being a General, but every soldier was expected to sacrifice for their country. "Kind of drastic, don't you think?" Why was it harder to contemplate losing her career than losing her life? Because she'd be around to see it?</p>
      <p>"That's the way it's supposed to feel, but it doesn't have to be that way," said Mary, her years of manipulative duplicity coming back to her. "From the right angle, or in the right place, a small act can have drastic effect."</p>
      <p>If cowardice was unacceptable in her subordinates, it was even less so in herself. "I'm going to the White House." If push came to shove, she could always get another career.</p>
      <p>Mary smiled. "That should do it." As long as they could keep the politics out. The political version of the Rat Pack, known as the Echo Chamber, would only make a bad situation worse.</p>
      <p>Her strategy decided, General Beckman slipped in a more tactical mode. "We still need an immediate response, though, something that will help the Team, help Sarah."</p>
      <p>Mary already had a few ideas. "No worries. We'll see how their rats do against a school of Piranha."</p>
      <p>School? "You've only got one." And he was on his way to a detention facility.</p>
      <p>"Yes, but they don't know that."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the high-class but otherwise anonymous hotel room…</p>
      <p>"I don't think so," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"No one was asking for your assistance, Agent Walker," said Vivian. "Much less your cooperation. In fact we barely even need you to lift a finger." Vivian chuckled at her own wit.</p>
      <p>"Clever," said Sarah. "You think of that yourself, or is there a torturer's joke book?"</p>
      <p>"Enough delay," said Vivian. "Mr. Quinn."</p>
      <p>Quinn stepped forward and picked up the box, carrying it over to where Sarah sat. "You don't have to lift a finger to help us, really," he said. "I can just break your thumb and press it against the lock on my own."</p>
      <p>Futile resistance was not a class they taught at the Farm, and both Sarah and Quinn knew that. Getting herself injured now would only compromise her ability to fight back when the opportunity presented itself. She lifted up her thumb without a word, and he pressed the box against it.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Meanwhile, a bit of friendship therapy…</p>
      <p>"I just felt so useless, you know?"</p>
      <p>"Oh, believe me, I know where you're coming from. Totally outclassed."</p>
      <p>"Yes, that too."</p>
      <p>"Hopelessly incompetent."</p>
      <p>"Let's not go too far," said Hannah with a laugh. She brushed her hair back from her face and sat up a little straighter.</p>
      <p>"Ah, so you <em>do</em> have a sense of proportion," said Manoosh. "I was beginning to wonder."</p>
      <p>Hannah thought back on her last few minutes. "Wallowing, was I?"</p>
      <p>"A little, a little," said Manoosh quickly. "Hip deep, maybe. Not a full-bore wallow, by any stretch. Those take practice, and I can tell you don't get much of that."</p>
      <p>"Well, thanks, I think."</p>
      <p>"Maybe if you failed more often…"</p>
      <p>"I think I'll stay an amateur, Manoosh," said Hannah. "I can think of better things to try to excel in than failure."</p>
      <p>Suddenly both of their screens went dark. Mostly dark, except for a haze of purple pixels that seemed to swirl about, almost in the shape of a person's face. "Then I guess this is as good a time as any to interrupt. I'm in need of people who want to excel, and you two will do nicely."</p>
      <p>Manoosh felt a strong sense of déjà vu. "Orion?"</p>
      <p>"You can call me Frost."</p>
      <p>"Sarah's mother-in-law?" said Hannah.</p>
      <p>"I have that honor," said Frost. "She's in a bit of trouble, and her team has been sidetracked. I need some new allies."</p>
      <p>"We're in," said Manoosh and Hannah together.</p>
      <p>"Thank you," said Mary, who expected nothing less. "I accept, but you're actually not the allies I had in mind. In Japan, Colonel Casey mentioned a 'second string'. Do you know who that is?"</p>
      <p>"A second string to the Intersect?"</p>
      <p>"There isn't one," said Hannah. "After that debacle in LA with a Russian arms dealer and his suitcase nuke, Director Bentley's Intersect agents were de-Intersected and the project was placed in the sole charge of General Beckman. That's why she's going to see the President tomorrow about this DoD operation Sarah found."</p>
      <p>The pixels swirled as Frost shook her head. "Unfortunately, she's meeting the President tonight, and the DoD isn't the real problem. It looks like someone else is monkeying around with Intersect technology, and they're setting up our team to take a fall."</p>
      <p>"You think it could be Bentley herself?" said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Let's not speculate," said Frost severely. "We have more than enough suspects as it is. We'll focus our attention on Clyde Decker, and his man Delgado."</p>
      <p>"But what about Quinn?"</p>
      <p>"Too obvious," said Frost. "When someone sticks up a red flag and starts waving it about, that's the time to start looking elsewhere."</p>
      <p>This sounded mostly like a job for Hannah, and good for her, but…"What do <em>I </em>do?" asked Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Get in touch with Orion, I don't expect it will be very hard," said Frost. "Get the specs for that suppressor Hannah had in her car and find out what it did to Sarah."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Nothing happened. The box did not click, nor did it open.</p>
      <p>Quinn pried at the lid anyway. "What the hell?"</p>
      <p>"Better be careful, Quinn," said Sarah. "You might actually get it open." Which would not be a good thing. Opening that lockbox without the right inputs would simply destroy the contents.</p>
      <p>"What's the matter?" said Vivian.</p>
      <p>"It's not opening," said Quinn. "She's gimmicked it somehow." He took the box to Sarah's other hand, just on the off chance, but her other thumb didn't work either.</p>
      <p>Effective resistance techniques get a lot more coverage.</p>
      <p>"So you're telling me that even she cannot open her own box?" snarled Vivian. "That's absurd."</p>
      <p>"No it's not," said Quinn, putting the box down. "What's absurd is her letting me see her lock the box in the first place. Only one thumbprint will open that box now, but we don't know whose."</p>
      <p>"But we know it's not hers," said Vivian.</p>
      <p>"That much we do know."</p>
      <p>Vivian lifted the Norseman. "So I can kill her now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N2 Comments welcome.</strong>
      </p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <div>
      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I loved the Buy More sequence from Goodbye, everyone finally getting a chance to show their true colors and skill sets, but it was far too short. Otherwise, some really badly thought out gags just had to go. The idea that a foreign national could discharge a weapon, disable a foreign government's foreign aircraft, and leave it in the middle of the street in another country's capital city was just to ludicrous, even for this season. Team B would have been interned for a month, until this international incident got resolved, if it ever did.</p>
      <p>Some people like to go on about how Fake Name was a calculated insult to the viewers, I find this sort of thoughtless and unrealistic plotting to be far more of an insult. They pulled this sort of crap since Other Guy ended. A train ride from Paris to Zurich that takes three days? It only got worse from there.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>You cheated."</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"What shall we talk about?"</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>You've only got one.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>So I can kill her now."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh stared at the blank screen for a while after Frost stole his friend away from him. He had to find Orion? Why did <em>he</em> always have to do the finding? Every time he did find someone, somebody else, like Frost, came along and took them away.</p>
      <p>Or found them first. <em>Bearded troll.</em> Agent McHugh deserved better.</p>
      <p>He typed <em>Orion</em> onto his screen, and waited a few minutes, but no one responded. His former mentor was going to make it difficult, but Manoosh really wasn't in the mood right now. He grabbed his tools and headed for the Intersect room.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"We need to find Sarah," said Frost, as Manoosh's image dropped from her screen.</p>
      <p>"I can do that," said Hannah.</p>
      <p>"How soon?"</p>
      <p>Hannah thought about that. The problem wasn't a lack of possibilities, but too many of them. Once they were away from the crash site the spreading branches of her decision tree could take "Days."</p>
      <p>"We don't have days," said Frost. "Anything over an hour is too long." An impossible deadline. Her son's specialty was meeting those, but her son wasn't–</p>
      <p>"Then I need to bring some others in on this," said Hannah.</p>
      <p>"We need it kept quiet." Not an easy thing to do anywhere, but especially in DC.</p>
      <p>"So I'll tell them to keep it down," said Hannah, sounding inappropriately blithe. She made a call, setting her phone on speaker so she could type.</p>
      <p>"Can you trust them?"</p>
      <p>"If I can't I'm in trouble."</p>
      <p>The call picked up on the second ring. "Hey sweetness."</p>
      <p>"No time for that, Bird Dog," said Hannah, her brisk tone covering up her embarrassment and hopefully preventing her husband from using any more pet names over the phone. "I need the Hounds and I need them now." Her speaker made a weird noise. "And no howling! I need every nose to the ground on this one."</p>
      <p>"Give me five minutes, Huntmistress."</p>
      <p>"I'll set up a conference line, Bird Dog." She ended the call.</p>
      <p>"Your husband calls you Huntmistress?" asked Frost, glad she would never write a report about this night.</p>
      <p>"My target, my hunt," said Hannah, bright red. Her fingers flew through the process of setting up a bridge line and sending the instructions to 'Bird Dog'. He'd share them as needed.</p>
      <p>"So if it was someone else's hunt they'd be the Huntmistress?"</p>
      <p>If they were a girl. "Mm-hmm," grunted Hannah, knowing what was coming next.</p>
      <p>"What do they call you then?"</p>
      <p>People started checking in, Bird Dog and Dirt Dog and a whole bunch of other Dogs, speaking over each other so fast Frost lost track of it all. Frost hoped they were as good as they were eager. "We're ready, Huntmistress."</p>
      <p>Hannah sent out a general post to everyone's mailbox, the best still she'd managed to pull from a traffic camera, two men carrying Sarah to an open car door. When the message arrived, the speaker echoed with what sounded like the largest dog in the world, barking once.</p>
      <p>"What the hell was that?" asked Frost into the total silence. Even her pixels stopped swirling.</p>
      <p>"They call me the Big Dog, Agent Frost," said five-foot-four, one hundred fifteen pound Hannah with a laugh. "Alright, Hounds. This is not a game, and we have company, so find the bucket of Zip-It and each of you grab some."</p>
      <p>The purple pixels hid Frost's smile. Just as well. This woman knew how to take charge.</p>
      <p>"The target is the woman in the image," Hannah continued. "She's a CIA officer, she's local, and as you can see she's not going 'cause she wants to."</p>
      <p>"Holy crap," said one man in shock. "This is real."</p>
      <p>"Back of the pack already, Dusty?"</p>
      <p>"Eat mine, Ratcatcher."</p>
      <p>Hannah put an end to the banter. "Fetch."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You know," said Casey, rattling the cuffs that secured him to the seat in the back of the truck. "For just one guy, this Quinn sure is causing an awful lot of trouble. More than Miller, even."</p>
      <p>"You watch your mouth, Casey," said Carina. "I spent years perfecting my craft. This guy Quinn?" She rolled her eyes. "What an amateur."</p>
      <p>"A highly-skilled amateur," said Chuck. "Between the Intersect and the torture, I can see where he'd lose his mind a little."</p>
      <p>Carina bestowed upon him a mighty frown. "Are you implying I've lost <em>my</em> mind, Chuckles?"</p>
      <p>While Chuck tried to figure out a gentlemanly way to extract his foot from his mouth, Casey jumped on that one. "All right, who are you and what have you done with my partner?"</p>
      <p>"What are you talking about, Casey?" she asked.</p>
      <p>"The Agent Miller I know is upgrading her banter," said Casey. "So there's no way she'd dangle that kind of low-hanging fruit in front of me unless something was throwing her off her game."</p>
      <p>"She could have been replaced by an outer-space alien," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"You've used that line before," said Carina. Maybe something was throwing Chuck off his game as well. <em>Oh, God, am I agreeing with Casey?</em></p>
      <p>"Yes, but Casey hasn't."</p>
      <p>"Don't try to out-logic him, Miller," said Casey. "He'll run rings around you, alien or not."</p>
      <p>"Oh…<em>intercourse</em> the outer-space alien, Casey."</p>
      <p>"Upgraded banter alert," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>Casey smirked. "I saw it."</p>
      <p>Carina hated it when he smirked. "I'm worried about Sarah, and so would you be, if you had a single lady-feeling in your entire manly-man body."</p>
      <p>"Manly-man?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Aw, Carina," said Casey, "I didn't know you cared."</p>
      <p>She winked at him. "I didn't strip you down to your lucky Irish boxers–twice–for nothing."</p>
      <p>Chuck grinned. "Speaking of low-hanging fruit–"</p>
      <p>Casey bestowed upon him a fierce glare. "Shut it, Charles!"</p>
      <p>"I'm just sayin'… they couldn't have been that lucky," snarked Chuck. "As I understand it they stayed on both times."</p>
      <p>"You know what they say, Charles," said Casey. "Third time's the–" He stopped in mid-aphorism.</p>
      <p>"Not a Lucky Charms joke, Casey," whined Carina.</p>
      <p>"Shh." Casey turned his head to one side, listening to whatever noises were coming from the driver's section. "Someone's talking."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The Hounds ripped into the picture from all angles, the makes and models of the cars, the faces and appearances of the drivers, the location and all the possible ways out of it. Despite the competitiveness displayed before the hunt, they worked with no sign of ego once it started. This pack would capture its prey and it didn't matter which of them had point when that happened. Being <em>last,</em> the dust-eater of the pack, was what they all tried to avoid. Not to mention that the Big Dog told them not to.</p>
      <p>Frost didn't even try to keep up.</p>
      <p>Traffic cameras were checked for faces. License plates glimpsed in profile were normalized and the possibilities processed, some of which had the same rental agency in common. Hackers went after their records while signals experts found codes for transponders.</p>
      <p>"–They were all rented with an account belonging to one Renny Deutsch, a noted German arms dealer–"</p>
      <p>Bird Dog pulled a satellite into position and tracked them all simultaneously, freeing up the traffic-cam guy to do other things.</p>
      <p>"–observed attending a function at the Russian embassy in Berlin last night–"</p>
      <p>"Maybe someone picked his pocket–?"</p>
      <p>Hannah's finger's flew as she typed it all down, but even so they would need the recording to get it all.</p>
      <p>"Breaking news, Renny Deutsch found shot to death in a Wienerlicious early this morning–"</p>
      <p>"Deal gone bad or hostile takeover?"</p>
      <p>Could be both, thought Frost. "Could be both," said Hannah.</p>
      <p>"Had to be a deal, why else would anyone go into a Wienerlicious–?"</p>
      <p>"I'll see who's in town–"</p>
      <p>They had a list already prepared. DC attracted powerbrokers of all sorts like moths. Faces popped up and the voice named names to go along with them. Known agents. Known aliases. Known agents of known aliases. Frost recognized most of them but disregarded them, letting the river of sound flow over her until she heard, "Nicholas Quinn."</p>
      <p>"Hold him," she said. Quinn's image moved to the top of the screen. "Keep going."</p>
      <p>He started with the list again, but neither Thomas Delgado nor Clyde Decker seemed to be on it. Whoever they were supposed to be holding, they weren't holding him in DC.</p>
      <p>A problem for another day. "Focus on Quinn," said Frost. The other images shrank to the edges of the screen as his took the center. "Blow up the image." Quinn appeared to be in an airport concourse, with a hand shielding his head, like he was on the phone, while he was really blocking the cameras he could see. "Who's that with him?"</p>
      <p>The other person in the photo didn't look like she was 'with' anyone, beyond standing in the same field as the subject of the photo, but Frost trusted her instincts. The image of the ticket in her hand expanded and rotated, OCR resolving the blurry characters into a set of letters and numbers. There was a bit of a wait as whichever-Hound-this-was had to pull up the records for that plane and flight. "Subject is listed on the passenger list as one Vivian MacArthur."</p>
      <p>Hannah looked up, recognizing the name. "But that's–"</p>
      <p>"That's not her name," said Frost quickly, but she didn't say what the lady's name was. This gazelle was a lion in disguise, and the Hounds couldn't be allowed to know what they were hunting. <em>Vivian Volkoff is in America.</em> Of course she had to be able to get in secretly, she'd attacked Chuck, hadn't she? Unless she'd let the Norseman out of her sight and Frost didn't accept that for a second. Wherever Vivian was, the Norseman would be, and her pregnant daughter-in-law was probably there too. "Where is Miss MacArthur now?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh stood back and watched the results of his handiwork for a few seconds, satisfied that all was as he wanted it to be. And why shouldn't it be that way? It was tech, and he was the master of tech. Once Orion had shown him that it was possible to light up one panel at a time it hadn't taken Manoosh long to figure out how. Now his five panels, blinking in sequence, were a bat-signal of sorts, to the only man who'd be able to even see the signal, much less understand it. Now all he could do was wait, and hope he got a nibble.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck and Carina pulled against the shackles as they leaned in as close as they could get. Not very close, but the driver had unconsciously slowed as they talked, so the noise level in the back of the truck dropped. They still couldn't make out the words, but the cadence of the voice was very clear.</p>
      <p>"It's Decker," said Chuck. Now was not the time to play by the rules. Whoever thought they were running this railroad would only listen to Decker for a minute, but he wouldn't need more than that. "Carina, you have your–"</p>
      <p>Carina held up her hand, one fingernail shorter than the others. "I told you I needed a new set, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"Relax," growled Casey. He held up a handcuff key in his fingers.</p>
      <p>"Great, Colonel," said Chuck. "Where did you–oh, no…"</p>
      <p>"Ewww," moaned Carina.</p>
      <p>Casey undid his hands, stood, and zipped his fly. "What? It's the only place they wouldn't search me."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>By the time Manoosh made it back to his desk and put his tools away, a line of text had appeared on his monitor, with the cursor blinking rather impatiently for a response. HELLO MANOOSH.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Orion. Nice to see you.</em>
      </p>
      <p>YOU SHOT OFF ENOUGH FLARES.</p>
      <p>
        <em>I was in a hurry.</em>
      </p>
      <p>WHAT FOR?</p>
      <p>Keys clattered as Manoosh filled in his former mentor on the details of the mission he'd almost been a useful part of.</p>
      <p>I NEVER HEARD OF A SUPPRESSOR SMALL ENOUGH FOR A SINGLE VEHICLE BEFORE.</p>
      <p>
        <em>It's new tech, they captured it in a raid. So far we've only shared it with our closest and most trusted allies.</em>
      </p>
      <p>THAT MEANS IT'LL BE ALL OVER THE PLACE TOMORROW.</p>
      <p>
        <em>That's what I said, but who listens to the smartest people in the room?</em>
      </p>
      <p>WE'LL NEED THE SPECS FOR IT.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Race you!</em>
      </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The first the back-up vehicle knew of their escape was when Carina flipped the tarp back. The MPs slowed, rather than run escaping prisoners over or give them a target if they should somehow turn out to be armed, but they didn't pull back far enough. Chuck had a running start, and John Casey to act as a springboard.</p>
      <p>He sailed through the air in a perfect vault, twisting in mid-air to land against the windshield, crushing it out of the frame and into the two guards, before they could even get the radio unhooked. The driver was knocked out and the second guard received the dose of fakeadeathanol in Carina's second broken off fingernail.</p>
      <p>Chuck flipped backward onto the hood of the truck as Casey and Carina ran up to the doors of the slowly-moving vehicle. Casey pushed the shattered windshield up from the driver's lap, killed the ignition, and pulled the driver out, while Carina slapped her two smallest fingernails together and shoved the keyhole bomb into the ignition. She pulled the other guard with her she stepped back. The only thing the bomb hurt was the truck.</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled a locked chest from the back. "Here they come," he said, referring to the guards in the first truck, which was coming around rapidly.</p>
      <p>"Got our gear?" said Casey.</p>
      <p><em>Bang!</em> "Yes." Chuck took his tranq guns while Casey and Carina rearmed more completely.</p>
      <p>The truck stopped a distance away, and the guards got out to approach on foot. Chuck raised his weapons. The guards recognized them and didn't fear them at that range. Their mistake.</p>
      <p>A line of bullets stitched the ground as a helicopter flew by overhead. "Casey, take it down," said Carina as Chuck threw himself out of the way.</p>
      <p>"I'm not 'taking down' one of our own birds," said Casey. "All I've got is my Desert Eagle anyway."</p>
      <p>"Good, let me," said Chuck, grabbing Casey's wrist. Pressing on the nerve, he loosened Casey's grip and plucked the gun from his hand. He fired once at the helicopter, and black smoke started spewing from the engine cowl. Chuck handed the gun back. "Not like we want to hurt anyone." As the helicopter slowly came down, they ran to the remaining truck. "They'll be back in the air pretty quickly, but we'll have to dump the truck pretty soon anyway."</p>
      <p>"We can't go back home now," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"No, we can't. We'll have to gear up someplace else. We'll surrender after we've taken care of Decker."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"No, you can't kill her now," said Quinn. "We need her to open the box." God, he hated dealing with obsessed people. They just couldn't think straight.</p>
      <p>"You just said that she couldn't."</p>
      <p>"No, I said that her thumbprints couldn't. Somebody's can, and she knows who that is."</p>
      <p>"I'm fairly certain that they're Agent Charles', but you can understand why I'm reluctant to bring these two into the same room together. They're very…synergistic."</p>
      <p>Quinn looked at her suspiciously. "So what's your plan? Take the box to Charles rather than bring Charles to the box?"</p>
      <p>"It's the obvious solution."</p>
      <p>Obvious nothing. "I don't think so," said Quinn. "That box is our joint property, no way I'm letting you open it without me, and someone has to keep an eye on Walker."</p>
      <p>"So I'll summon a–" Minion. A mere minion against Sarah Walker, <em>Agent</em> Walker who had somehow managed to trap them both, even though <em>she</em> was the one tied to the chair. "No." Someone had to stay, one of them would have to stay. Both of them. She wouldn't let the box out of her sight either. "We appear to be at an impasse." That devil woman!</p>
      <p>"The last person who said that to me rode a Japanese train down a mountainside," said Quinn.</p>
      <p>Vivian raised the Norseman. "Don't think that I'll oblige you similarly."</p>
      <p><em>My DNA too, huh? </em>"You won't have to," said Quinn calmly. She wouldn't use that as long as Walker was in front of it too. "As I'm sure Walker knows, this type of box has a safety, in case the person it's keyed to dies before he can open it. We just need her to give us the key."</p>
      <p>All her plans had gone sideways tonight, but Vivian was sure of one thing. "She won't."</p>
      <p>"Everyone talks," said Quinn. "We just need to find her breaking point." He smiled. "Maybe I'll get to use my bolt-cutter after all."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N2 Comments welcome.</strong>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I had an idea for a great Alternate Finale story, while watching the next part of the Goodbye. I've also had 'Take On Me' playing my head for days, from rewatching this episode.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>They call me the Big Dog."</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"Someone's talking."</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>Relax.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Everyone talks."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>FBI Agent Alex McHugh was in her bed, resting before her flight to Denver in the morning. On the surface it was nothing more than another publicity event, but that's the way they had to look. As the only FBI agent read in on the Intersect project (and unofficially at that), no one could know the real reason she made so many trips to places that already had agents on the scene. Her last-minute replacement of Agent Johnson in Miami for no obvious reason had drawn some unwelcome attention already, but Gertrude had come up with a plausible cover before she left the country. As long as it was the only case, and no one looked too deeply at that cover, they could live with it.</p>
      <p>Her boyfriend was also having to live with it, though, and that's not what he signed up for, dating an FBI trainee. Her meeting with Mr. Depak had given her a welcome opportunity to see him one last time, to let him know about her mission. He'd put a happy face on, the dear, but she knew he wasn't, knew he'd rather she be home. "Hey," he'd said, "I don't think of it as you going away. I think of it as me having an opportunity to welcome you back." She was looking forward to that.</p>
      <p>Her phone rang.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"So what's it gonna be, Sarah?" asked Quinn jovially. "Are you going to spoil my fun and give us the key, or do I get to play with my toys?"</p>
      <p>"You boys and your toys," said Sarah, in a 'you silly man' voice. "You don't need toys, you just need your head."</p>
      <p>"My head?"</p>
      <p>"His head?" asked Vivian.</p>
      <p>Sarah shrugged. "Whack him over the head with the box enough times, it'll open."</p>
      <p>Vivian seemed amused, and perhaps she was. "His head or the box?"</p>
      <p>"Either one's a win in my book."</p>
      <p>Quinn, it seemed, didn't have much of a sense of humor when it was his own head on the block. "Send one of your guys for my tools," he snapped at Vivian. "We'll see if eight-fingered Sarah thinks that's so funny."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey groaned when Chuck turned into the parking lot. "Not the Buy More!"</p>
      <p>"Don't worry, you big baby," said Chuck. "This is just a pit stop, but I think you'll like the main event." He hopped out of the car an up to the door, entered the code, and vanished inside. In just a few minutes he was back with a bag full of stuff and some laundry.</p>
      <p>"How'd you know the combination?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"It's the factory default," said Chuck. "One thing you can always count on is Buy More laziness."</p>
      <p>"Green shirts?" asked Casey, eyeing the fabric with horror.</p>
      <p>Chuck gave an evil little 'mwa-ha-ha' laugh, but turned at the last minute. "You were right, Casey, not the Buy More. They'd have the tech we need, but we need more than tech. We'll let the Large Mart take the hit this time, and who better to do that..."</p>
      <p>"Than some Buy More slobs." Casey's eyes gleamed, as Chuck drove around behind the building. "Large Mart, huh? Yeah, that works. About time those bozos got their comeuppance."</p>
      <p>"You have a grudge against big box stores I don't know about, Casey?" snickered Carina.</p>
      <p>Chuck snorted. "It's one of the biggest rivalries in retail. Mostly the Buy Morians lose, since Large Mart goons tend to be larger, faster, and smarter, but the rivalry continues." He opened the door.</p>
      <p>Carina followed. "Oh, that's right," she said, in a tone of great enlightenment. "You used to work in a Buy More, didn't you?" She stared at the blank wall with some dismay. Somewhere on the other side of it, the demons of retail lay in wait.</p>
      <p>"And I wasn't allowed to win," snarled Casey. It would have spoiled the cover.</p>
      <p>"No one stopping you now, big guy," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>Casey unfurled his green flag. "Let me put on the shirt." Once properly dressed, he popped open the trunk and pulled out a shotgun.</p>
      <p>"Um, Casey…?"</p>
      <p>"Don't worry Chuck," said Carina, swimming inside a shirt much too large for her, "I got this one." She held up two fingers, extending the lockpicks. Not the most durable pair she'd ever had. "No I don't."</p>
      <p>"Heh." Casey marched past her and up the steps to the rear door. He shoved the barrel through the handle and prepared to twist the lock out of the steel door like it was some Large Mart goon's overly thick neck.</p>
      <p>"Casey." Chuck stepped up to the door, his tiny screwdriver in his hand. "Allow me." He poked the delicate tip in to the gap between the door and the frame, popping it open with ease. "About the only thing Large Mart ever came in second in was laziness, but it was a <em>close</em> second."</p>
      <p>Casey handed the shotgun back to Carina, and she put it in the trunk again. The sound of a helicopter approaching prompted them to hustle inside and close the door. "Should we lock it?" asked Carina. Surely anybody who came looking would find an essentially unlocked door suspicious.</p>
      <p>"Absolutely not," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Be a dead giveaway, Miller, weren't you listening?" snapped Casey. "Okay, now we spread out, do some damage, gather whatever we think we might be able to use, but bury it in a lot of petty vandalism. Take a lot of useless junk too, we'll dump it somewhere."</p>
      <p>"So the police will blame it on the Buy More?" That didn't seem like a very nice thing to do to a bunch of innocent…whatever Buy More employees are.</p>
      <p>"There won't be any police, Miller," said Casey. "What happens at the Buy More, stays at the Buy More."</p>
      <p>"Besides," added Chuck, "If there's one thing BuyMorians are better at than laziness, it's taking credit, and believe me, they'll be glad to take the credit for any hit on a Large Mart, even if they don't really know who did it. They'll be heroes."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Meanwhile, back in the lab…</p>
      <p>"I'm just not seeing it," said Manoosh, throwing down his pencil. He didn't write with it, but he liked to have something in his hands that he could throw once in a while. "You're sure it's the waves?"</p>
      <p>"I can't think of anything else it might be," said Orion's distorted voice from the speaker. "This device doesn't have the power."</p>
      <p>"It burnt out your bug, didn't it?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, but that's a bug. The suppressor's supposed to work on those. It couldn't hurt a brain, though, that's why it has to be feedback."</p>
      <p>"But the frequency differential is too high for resonance or heterodyning, not to affect her that quickly."</p>
      <p>He'd said that before. "We're spinning our wheels here, Manoosh. Let's take a break, give ourselves some time to come up with a new approach."</p>
      <p>"That's a great idea, Orion," said Manoosh derisively. "We'll kick it down a notch, settle back, relax, brainstorm. I'm sure Agent Walker won't–"</p>
      <p>"Wait, what did you just say?" said Orion.</p>
      <p>"I said Sarah doesn't have time for us to–"</p>
      <p>"No, no, before that,"</p>
      <p>"The…frequency is too high?"</p>
      <p>"Frequencies. Hmm. Yes, it does look that way, doesn't it?" said Orion, his tone distracted.</p>
      <p>Why was it meaningful now? "Orion?"</p>
      <p>"Let me get back to you with this, Manoosh. I may have an idea." The screen went completely black.</p>
      <p>"Orion?" Nothing. "Great. Just <em>spiffing.</em>" Orion just stole his mission. What could he do now? No idea. Well, one idea. Call Frost, see if she had any ideas, or maybe he could help them with their problems. Better than nothing. He pressed the button on his monitor. "Hannah."</p>
      <p>Before he could even pull his hand back the monitor made the most godawful noise at him, a lot of different voices warbling erratically. Hannah appeared on the screen, saying 'Hounds rule!' over and over, with a bunch of other voices chanting along with her.</p>
      <p>"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted over the din. "Open mike night at the wolf pack?"</p>
      <p>Hannah slapped a hand down, and the discordant ululation cut off abruptly."Oh, uh, hi, Manoosh. No, um, we were just celebrating, you know…"</p>
      <p>"You and you're friends, the, uh, Hounds?" he guessed.</p>
      <p>"Exactly!" Hannah looked for a good spin to put on things. She slapped up that last graphic her husband had left them, a bird's-eye view of a hotel and its parking lot. "We, um, found Agent Walker for Frost, and she's going now to get her back."</p>
      <p>Manoosh studied the image. There were at least three vehicles showing on the thermals. "Alone? She's not waiting for the team?"</p>
      <p>Hannah shook her head. "Can't. Apparently 'sidetracked' means 'arrested' in spy-ese."</p>
      <p>"Arrested?" Some goons with an Intersect get the guys arrested, and she's going after them by herself? <em>He'd</em> been a goon with not even an Intersect once, just one skill set, and he took out a bunch of mercs by himself, that one time. She wouldn't have a chance.</p>
      <p>"That DARPA thing," said Hannah casually, unaware of his fears. "But she got lucky. It turns out that FBI agent you briefed hadn't left yet, so it's not like she's going alone."</p>
      <p>Agent McHugh too? What had he done? <em>What am I going to do?</em> "Oh, well, that's good, I guess."</p>
      <p>Hannah nodded. "Absolutely it is. We'll have her back soon, you'll see."</p>
      <p>"I hope so," said Manoosh for lack of anything better to say. "Well, that's it for us, I guess. Good job, don't know if I said that before."</p>
      <p>"Thanks." Suddenly Hannah wilted. "Now I have to figure out how to write this all up for the General. Wish me luck."</p>
      <p>"Yeah." He had to <em>do</em> something. "Good luck."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Frost's phone rang, but the number didn't mean anything to her caller ID, which wasn't at all unusual. Not too many people had this number, and they would have lots of opportunities to lose their phones. She put it on speaker. "Yes?"</p>
      <p>"Little Tractor, this is Graboid."</p>
      <p>Frost lifted her phone to make sure the mike caught every word. "What did I tell you about that stupid code name?"</p>
      <p>"Um, that it was stupid, even if it was thematically appropriate," said Graboid. "You spent most of that plane ride asleep, remember?"</p>
      <p>"Fine, it's still stupid, and it's not thematically appropriate anymore, so <em>get me another one</em>."</p>
      <p>The phone sighed. "Fine, Grandma Bear. Give me a sitrep."</p>
      <p>Frost smiled. "Hannah's Hounds got us a location for Goldilocks, the Grand Ambassador on K Street. Baby Bear and I are going after her now."</p>
      <p>"Hey!" yelled Alex.</p>
      <p>"Is 'Baby Bear' who I think she is?" said the phone with Dirtnap's voice.</p>
      <p>Alex grabbed the phone. "Yes she is, but you'd better call her A Lead if you know what's good for you." She tossed the phone back to its owner. "'Baby Bear' my ass."</p>
      <p>The phone laughed at them both. "Roger that, A Lead. B Team is on its way."</p>
      <p>"We're not waiting, B Lead."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"About time," said Quinn, as a couple of men returned from an impromptu trip to find an open hardware store. They dumped their bag of gear at his feet, making him take a step back.</p>
      <p>"They serve me, Mr. Quinn, not you," said Vivian sharply. She nodded graciously at them. "Thank you, gentlemen."</p>
      <p>Quinn knelt and started rooting through the bag, like a kid on Christmas. The first item out was pair of bolt cutters as long as his arm. "Oo, the long ones!" He checked the action a few times, watching Sarah's reaction, before he arranged it on the table in front of her. A cordless drill was next, and an assortment of drill bits. "Let's just plug this in right now," said Quinn. "In case you last long enough for me to get to use it." He pulled more and more bits of metal from the bag, laying them out on the table after ooh-ing and aah-ing over each.</p>
      <p>Vivian began to look a bit green, and she looked at Sarah with something like wonder. "Does the sight of all this array leave you so totally unaffected?" she asked, striving for an air of detached curiosity.</p>
      <p>"I once broke a warlord with a matchstick," said Sarah calmly. She waved a hand at all the display. "This is for his sake, not mine."</p>
      <p>Vivian seemed to take heart from Sarah's own equanimity. "Well, that's as may be, but honestly I rather think the shears are meant for you. Am I right, Mr. Quinn?"</p>
      <p>"Don't worry, Miss Volkoff," said Quinn, running a hand over his treasures. "Agent Walker may talk a good game, but when the rubber hits the road, well, little bits of rubber come off."</p>
      <p>If only he wouldn't grin like that. "An astute observation."</p>
      <p>Quinn didn't bother sneering back. She'd get hers. "So, Sarah," he said instead, picking up a pair of pliers. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"</p>
      <p>"Actually, there is."</p>
      <p>He played along. "I'm listening."</p>
      <p>"I'm going to kill you," said Sarah. "Real soon."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The elevator stopped, making a chiming noise, just in case all the bad guys weren't already aware of their approach. A-Lead and Grandma Bear waited right in front of the door, guns ready. "They're going to kill us," said Alex. "You know that."</p>
      <p>Frost's smile was as wintry as her name. "They're going to try."</p>
      <p>The door opened. Three men stood there, slightly apart from each other, guns drawn with every interior angle of the elevator large enough to hold a person covered by somebody.</p>
      <p>Sitting ducks for a pair of shooters lying on the floor.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Gunfire," said Vivian.</p>
      <p>"An astute observation," said Quinn. He tossed his pliers on the table an drew his gun. "Let's hope these guys you hired are worth the money you're paying them."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Didn't think that would work," said Alex, as they advanced their position.</p>
      <p>"It has its drawbacks," said Mary. "If you don't take out the target on the first round, you're stuck on the floor, but since we were in an elevator already–"</p>
      <p>"We were already sitting ducks."</p>
      <p>"Only now we're sitting ducks with machine guns."</p>
      <p>"Ho ho ho," said Alex.</p>
      <p>Frost sighed. "Not you too." She checked the plaques on the wall, looking for the direction of the rooms registered to Miss MacArthur. "This way. I'll take point, and we'll switch off at the junctions."</p>
      <p>"Got it," said Alex. "Let's dance."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Hannah's phone rang. "Yes, General?"</p>
      <p>"We have an emergency," said Beckman, without preamble as usual. "The team has for some reason decided to play hardball with the military police, and they've undercut my position with the President and the DoD. Find them. Get them to stand down or I may not be able to save them from the consequences." She hung up before Hannah could get a word in.</p>
      <p>Finding them wouldn't be hard. Wherever Sarah was, Chuck would be going there. Finding them <em>now</em> was nothing more than locating Chuck's tracker, and there it was, moving at faster-than-usual speeds toward the hotel. Talking to them, getting them to stop, was a tougher nut. If they really had pissed off the MPs, they'd be off grid in a big way. She pressed the button her monitor. "Manoosh."</p>
      <p>The screen sported a progress bar, but no one answered.</p>
      <p>"Great." Where the hell could he have gotten too?</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"We have them, Miss Volkoff," said the man over the speaker. "Just two as far as we can tell. I have a team sweeping the whole floor."</p>
      <p>"Bring them to me." Vivian ended the call. "Only two, Sarah? I wonder which."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina led the team out onto the roof of the building across the street from the Grand Ambassador, and swore. "Chuck, take the bow. You'll have to take the shot."</p>
      <p>"But you're the archer."</p>
      <p>"Chuck, look at the distance. I could never pull enough to cover it, I don't have that kind of upper body strength. You'll have to take the shot."</p>
      <p>"No he won't, Miller," said Casey. He pointed to a rope, tied to a stanchion and strung out into the space over the street. "Someone got here first."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Someone knocked on the door. "Come," said Vivian.</p>
      <p>The door opened and her men entered, escorting two women, hands raised. Vivian couldn't have cared less about one of them, but the other…"Hello again, Frost. Look, Sarah, your mother-in-law's here to rescue you."</p>
      <p>Frost put her hands down and offered Sarah a smile. "Nice to see you again, Vivian. My name is Mary."</p>
      <p>"As far as I'm concerned, you're Thing One and Thing Two. We were just about to torture Agent Walker her into opening that box for us."</p>
      <p>"Her name is Bartowski," said Frost.</p>
      <p>"A viper, by any other name. Tell me, Sarah, which is more important to you, those glasses or Thing One's life?"</p>
      <p>Sarah looked back at Mary.</p>
      <p>"Don't feel you need to answer her, sweetheart," said Frost.</p>
      <p>"Right," said Vivian. "Kill that one," she said, pointing at Alex. "We'll torture the mother instead."</p>
      <p>As the men prepared to carry out their orders, Frost stared at Vivian with wide eyes. "Oh. My. God."</p>
      <p>Vivian turned around.</p>
      <p>A man crashed through the window, swinging on a cable! The glass didn't break, but the frame did, and every gun in the room pointed at him as he slid down the window to the table, somehow keeping his balance.</p>
      <p>Sarah stood up, one hand free and swinging the chair at Quinn's back with the other, bringing him down. Frost and Alex broke left and right, as the man hit the table, caught his toes on the large pair of bolt cutters and tumbled to the floor.</p>
      <p>He rolled into the cluster of mercenaries and leapt to his feet, punching and kicking with expert precision, taking out three for ladies' one. Vivian reached for the Norseman as Sarah raised her chair for another strike, but Quinn brought his gun to bear first. He shot the chair, reversing its course and spinning Sarah around with it, falling behind the table with a crunch of splintering wood.</p>
      <p>This was not an improvement. Sarah rose up, free of the shattered chair, and toppled the table onto Quinn. One henchman down. She turned toward her nemesis.</p>
      <p>Vivian raised the Norseman and pulled the trigger.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>
        <strong>A/N2 Uh-oh.</strong>
      </p>
      <p>
        <strong>Comments welcome.</strong>
      </p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> This chapter's slightly longer than normal, but the others were slightly shorter than usual, so it all balances out. To all who've been waiting patiently for C&amp;S to be back in the same room together, here you go. It wasn't my plan to separate them, but that's the way the story went. Considering that this was a rewrite of the Goodbye, a momentary separation isn't at all the worst that could happen to our stalwarts. I was sort of hoping to do something with the beach scene, but this didn't seem the place for it. I think I'll put it into my own finale, a mere eight episodes from now.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>So what's it gonna be, Sarah?"</em></p>
      <p>
        <em>"They'll be heroes."</em>
      </p>
      <p>"<em>We're not waiting.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Oh. My. God."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Contrary to Quinn's deduction, his DNA wasn't in the sample tray of the Norseman. That honor was reserved for Sarah, which was good for him since he was in the cone and the table wouldn't have protected him at all. When Vivian triggered the device, the analyzer determined the unique vibratory frequency of Sarah's DNA. The enhancer used this information to create and then to emit a signal meant to reinforce the chemical bonds of the cell's instruction set beyond survivable limits. The resonance effects shook victims to their bones and beyond, each one experiencing the unique vibratory signature of their own bodies, for the first and usually the last time.</p>
      <p>"What's that sound?" said Sarah, raising her hands to her ears.</p>
      <p>Vivian grinned, but not for long.</p>
      <p>"Chuck?" said her intended victim. "I hear you!" The air shimmered with it, and the sound of bells ringing a long way off, as if he'd spoken her name and the world carried the echoes to her.</p>
      <p>Vivian lowered her weapon. "You <em>what</em>?"</p>
      <p>"He's here," said Sarah. She looked, she searched, she sought him out with every sense, and every sense found him. She looked around her with delight. "He's all around."</p>
      <p>Vivian tensed. Agent Charles was here? "Mister Carmichael!"</p>
      <p>"Coming, Miss Volkoff!" he yelled from the next room, where he'd been told to wait.</p>
      <p>The sound of his readiness steadied Vivian. How could Agent Charles be here? Mr. Decker was supposed to be waylaying him right now, diverting the military police into delivering Charles' team right into his hands. Charles should be dead! How could he be here?</p>
      <p>Just then Carmichael ran into the room through the connecting door, and for a second Vivian felt a thrill of terror, before she recognized him. He hadn't yet grown back the mustache, but even so she knew him.</p>
      <p>"Chuck!" said Sarah joyfully.</p>
      <p>"No!" screamed Vivian, dropping the Norseman in her rage. "Mine, damn your eyes, mine! You've taken everything else but you won't take <em>that</em>." She leapt at Sarah, digging her claws into Sarah's long blonde hair.</p>
      <p>Sarah gripped her wrists and head-butted her, throwing Vivian back across the room. "I have the original," she said. "I don't want your knock-off, Vivian, so I wish you all the joy of him."</p>
      <p>"Joy?" sneered Vivian, backing away. "There is no joy in Mr. Carmichael, not for me. He is pain, the memory of all that you have taken from me."</p>
      <p>"I haven't taken anything from you, Vivian."</p>
      <p>"But I have from you, Agent Walker," said Vivian, suddenly calm, holding up Sarah's charm bracelet. She took her weapon from Mr. Carmichael's hands and murmured, "Escape plan P," as Sarah looked at her scratched wrist in shock.</p>
      <p>"Really, Sarah, a catfight? Over him?" Vivian laughed. "I just needed to get close enough to strip you of your protection." She held up the bracelet, looking it over. "I thought it a little odd that an agent of your reputation would be wearing such a thing." She put the bracelet in her pocket and raised the weapon, taking the minimal aim she had to take. "Let's see how well you withstand the Norseman now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Frost took out the final man by herself. While Manoosh's interruption had been timely and certainly colorful enough, it wasn't very long-lived. The young lab rat simply didn't have the muscle or the endurance for a prolonged fight. Fortunately the Intersect, and he had to have uploaded the Intersect to do all this, made him very effective in a short time.</p>
      <p>She turned toward Vivian and Sarah, and Vivian's man, who looked so much like her own son, moved to block her. The sound of reinforcements coming up drew her attention to the door. Vivian had far more troops at her disposal than Alexei ever took with him on a trip, and worse, Frost didn't know any of them. Had Vivian replaced her entire guard cadre so quickly, once Frost turned against her? Or were these simply mercenaries on a short-term hire? Probably the latter, their English was too good.</p>
      <p>When the door came down Frost was reminded how Chuck could make a herd of elephants seem quiet by comparison, even when he was only nine. Time and the Intersect didn't seem to have changed that.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Sarah!" yelled Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Ah, Agent Charles, so glad you could make it," said Vivian. Decker must have failed after all. "You're just in time to see your wife die."</p>
      <p>Once upon a time Chuck's voice would have risen in panic, but time and the Intersect had done for that. "Vivian, don't!"</p>
      <p>"Or what?" she said. "You'll kill me? The ever-so-noble Agent Charles?"</p>
      <p>Chuck glared at her, and she smiled at his impotent fury. "No," he said, and dropped to his knees.</p>
      <p>Carina, standing right behind him, aimed her bow, arrow already nocked, and said, "<em>I</em> will."</p>
      <p>She loosed the arrow, but Carmichael was faster, the tip of the arrow penetrating his arm as he lunged desperately to interpose his body.</p>
      <p>Vivian's caught him, but her attention was on Carina, face twisted in rage once again. "You are going to <em>die</em>, you tart," she shouted. "You're going to envy Sarah!" She triggered the weapon once again.</p>
      <p>Sarah staggered forward, hands over her ears.</p>
      <p>"Ha!" said Vivian, turning her triumphant grin on Agent Charles and all those standing by him.</p>
      <p>Sarah dropped her hands and lunged, snatching the Norseman out of Vivian's grasp. "Ha, yourself." She tossed it across the room and Casey caught it.</p>
      <p>"Impossible!" yelled Vivian. "Does nothing kill you?"</p>
      <p>"Not the Norseman," said Sarah, "Not tonight. Give it up, Vivian."</p>
      <p>Vivian pushed Carmichael away and lunged. "Never!"</p>
      <p>Sarah went to meet her but at the last moment Vivian snapped a kick into Sarah's belly, followed by a strike to the nose, but Sarah turned her head and it glanced off her cheekbone. Vivian jabbed Sarah's outstretched arm at the joint, leaving it tingling and weak. She caught Sarah's arm and twisted it behind her back, shielding herself from her attackers. "I've had a black belt since I was thirteen, bitch."</p>
      <p>Vivian shoved Sarah at her team, taking advantage of the distraction to snatch up the box with the glasses, holding it up as a shield as she ran to Carmichael at the window. He caught her in his arms and they fell out of the window together.</p>
      <p>Frost made it to the window first, but the people who came behind her were all taller, and they all saw the dark fabric of the parachute as Vivian sailed away from them. "She stole our move," said Casey, annoyed.</p>
      <p>Frost shook her head. "Alexei always prided himself on learning from his enemies," she said. "When you stole the EMP device he added a parachute to the equipment list for any trip that involved tall buildings." She pushed back from the window, and they all turned. "Chuck?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere in the middle of their own private universe…</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled himself out of their kiss. "Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes and hands asking the same question. "Is the baby…?"</p>
      <p>"We're fine, but yes, I will be seeing my doctor to make sure," said Sarah. "Her kick wasn't hard, I was a fool."</p>
      <p>"Not just you," said her husband, taking her into his arms. "I've been underestimating her since day one. She's smart enough to hide what she can do until she has to do it."</p>
      <p>Sarah settled comfortably into his warmth. "If only <em>she'd</em> tried to hold on to me, all this would be over." Too smart for that, too.</p>
      <p>"Very true," said Chuck. "I tried to hold onto you and look at me now. I think I'm doomed."</p>
      <p>She pulled back to look into his face. "Doomed, is it?"</p>
      <p>"I meant blessed."</p>
      <p>"That's what I thought you meant," said Sarah, settling back down. "Vivian is doomed. I'll know better next time."</p>
      <p>His voice went up an octave. "Next time? We didn't catch her but you got the Norseman! There doesn't have to be a next time."</p>
      <p>Sarah pushed out of his embrace and grabbed his shirt by the collar. <em>"She stole my bracelet."</em></p>
      <p>Oh dear God. Chuck looked down at her scratched wrist. "There'll be a next time." Then his brains started to work. "Why would she do that?"</p>
      <p>"Worry about that later, Chuckles," said Carina, whacking him lightly on the back of his head. "A little distance from the crime scene might be good right now." They could hear the sound of sirens through the hole in the wall.</p>
      <p>Casey gave a grunt as he came up. "Hunger Games is right for once. Let me just make sure they've got someone to arrest, though." He shoved the Norseman into Chuck's hands and took his tranq pistols, putting them to good use on the hired help.</p>
      <p>Chuck took the device apart and handed everyone a piece. "I always thought you should get a grip," he said to Carina.</p>
      <p>"Please, stop," she said, deadpan. "You're killing me."</p>
      <p>He knew she hadn't been wounded, but... "That's the best you can do?"</p>
      <p>"You should have heard my original comeback, it's not like you're the first person who's ever said that to me. Upgrading my banter on the fly isn't as easy as I make it look, you know."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh lay crumpled on the floor next to the closet, breathing rapidly. He hurt all over, mostly his legs. That window had been a tough customer, and then there was something on the desk that he'd tripped over. On top of that the Intersect made him do a lot of kicking.</p>
      <p>His ribs would have hurt more, if it had taken more than the one punch to drop him out of the fight. One punch, that's all it took. All he could take.</p>
      <p>"Manoosh!"</p>
      <p>He roused himself at the sound of Agent McHugh calling his name. He looked up and saw her coming over, proud of all the bodies she had to step over to get to him. Those were <em>his</em> bad guys, thank you very much. He tried to get up, his ribs moving to the top of the list of things that hurt. "Are you all right?"</p>
      <p>"I'm fine," she assured him, and she looked it. She knelt next to him. "What on Earth did you think you were doing?"</p>
      <p>"They were arrested," he said, flicking a glance at the team. "I knew you'd be in trouble, I had to help."</p>
      <p>"And you did!" said Alex, taking his hand and pulling him more vertical. "She'd just ordered these men to kill me, and then there you were, so…Thank you for saving my life." She smiled at him, at him alone.</p>
      <p>The pain was <em>so</em> worth it.</p>
      <p>Something rumbled overhead, like a jet on a bombing run, or thunder that came <em>before</em> the lightning. "What is it with you and these small fry?" asked Casey, looming over them both.</p>
      <p>"Dad," said Agent McHugh with a hefty dose of 'I'm warning you' in her voice.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Dad?</em>
      </p>
      <p>Casey bent over, grabbed Manoosh around his sore ribs and lifted him to his feet with not even a grunt for the effort. Casey looked him over carefully before letting go. "Saved your life, huh?"</p>
      <p>"Mm-hmm," said Alex, standing and also watching carefully. Manoosh liked it better when she did it. "They would have killed me and tortured Frost, to make Sarah open that box."</p>
      <p>Now Casey grunted, and stuck out a hand. "Thanks."</p>
      <p>Manoosh took that hand with some fear, that his own hand would be crushed in the big man's grip. Wow! Colonel Casey was thanking <em>him</em>! "You're welcome."</p>
      <p>Casey shook once. "Good job, soldier." Manoosh tried for more than once, and Casey pulled his hand away. "Let's not spoil the moment."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina fumbled with her bow, looking for a place to stash the Norseman's grip, as Sarah started patting her pockets. "What's the matter, Sarah?"</p>
      <p>"I can't find Chuck's glasses."</p>
      <p>"Isn't that what was in the box?"</p>
      <p>"No! Chuck's glasses, from Vail! I had them in my pocket. I must have lost them in the fight."</p>
      <p>Suddenly the table rose up, as the man under it surged to his feet. "Indeed you did, Agent Walker," said Quinn, holding the missing glasses. "And now the moment of my destiny is at hand." Before anyone could stop him he put them on. He started bellowing almost once.</p>
      <p>"That's…not normal," said Frost.</p>
      <p>"Get them off him," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Too late," said Manoosh. "The upload is done, it's his brain processing it that's the problem now."</p>
      <p>The second he could move Quinn clawed the glasses from his face, looking wildly around the room. "He's everywhere! Bearded trolls! Everywhere! I can't–can't escape!" He backed up to the wall and flinched when he reached it.</p>
      <p>"Ahhh! I see him," shrieked Quinn, spinning about. "He's everywhere, the sun rises, the sun sets, he's everywhere!" He tripped over his own bolt cutters and flung himself back in terror.</p>
      <p>"Don't–" shouted Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Watch–" said Alex.</p>
      <p>Quinn threw himself backward, right out the broken window.</p>
      <p>"Whoops," said Casey, and, "Good riddance," when they heard the thud. At least the screaming stopped.</p>
      <p>"Now that's what I call a <em>down</em>load," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"I always wondered what would happen if we gave out the download first," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Time to go," said Frost.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah watched as Ellie used her knowledge of first aid and a Large Mart brand first aid kit to treat the wounds on her arms. "She seemed to think it had something to do with me surviving the Norseman," she said. Casey, Alex, and Manoosh were in the other car, going somewhere else, but probably only Manoosh was all that happy about it.</p>
      <p>"How did you manage that?" asked Frost.</p>
      <p>"You used Hartley's goop, right, Sarah?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Mm-hmm." Sarah brushed back her hair, scraping at her ear. A little bladder peeled off the back, and she held it out to Frost. "Everyone we've seen killed by the Norseman complained about a noise and covered their ears, so we put little injectors with Hartley's antidote where we could grab them without raising suspicion."</p>
      <p>Chuck tipped his head and showed her his own. "Clever," said his mother. <em>And not needed anymore, thank God.</em></p>
      <p>"It was Chuck's idea," said Sarah, always willing to give her husband his due. "It really worked, too. I didn't even hear anything the second time, but I had to sell it, so I could get close enough to grab the damned thing."</p>
      <p>"Wait, Sarah," said Ellie. "Second time? What happened the first time?"</p>
      <p>Sarah smiled. "Bells. Tiny bells." She nestled into Chuck's arms again. "The whole world felt just like this."</p>
      <p>"Sis?"</p>
      <p>Ellie knew what Chuck wanted her to verify, but didn't want to ask. "No, Chuck. No bells. Just an ache all over, and an irritating whine in my head."</p>
      <p>"I had that too," said Sarah, sitting up, "But that wasn't the Norseman, that was the suppressor in Hannah's car. God, that hurt. I was ready to claw my own brain out."</p>
      <p>Ellie looked at Chuck, who looked up at Frost, and back down at their joined hands. "To paraphrase my mother, in a slightly different context," he said, "'That's not normal.'"</p>
      <p>"<em>Normally</em>," said Carina, rocking with Clara in her arms, "She'd be dead."</p>
      <p>"I'm not complaining," said Chuck. "I'm just…wondering. Why would the Norseman make you feel something so different?"</p>
      <p>"I don't know that it <em>was</em> the Norseman," said Sarah. "I've felt like you were all around me for a while now, the Norseman just made it…stronger, somehow."</p>
      <p>Ellie put on her 'doctor' face. "How long is 'for a while now', Sarah?"</p>
      <p>First Sarah opened her mouth, but then she started to think about the question and shut it again. When she started counting on her fingers, Chuck said, "That long?"</p>
      <p>She ignored him. "Do dreams count?"</p>
      <p>"I think they'd better," said Ellie.</p>
      <p>"Four days?" said Sarah. "Since I left your father's house, I guess."</p>
      <p>"Sis?"</p>
      <p>"Mom?"</p>
      <p>"Stephen," growled Mary, pressing the contact on her phone, "What have you done now?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You lost the Norseman?" said Decker.</p>
      <p>"Of course not, Mr. Decker. I know exactly where it is, and so will you by tomorrow." Vivian admired the look of the charm bracelet against her skin. Well, 'admired' might be too strong a term. Her taste had never run to such tawdry knick-knacks, and she doubted Agent Walker's did either. As a hiding place for whatever shielded Sarah from the Norseman it was superb, and since her enemies had the Norseman Vivian could use a shield. As the first thing she'd managed to take from her blonde nemesis it had a certain trophy value, too. "It was useless against them anyway, but they're all slaves of duty," she continued, "I'm sure someone in their chain of command is less honorable. They'll keep it safe for us, if only so they can use it themselves. You'll just take it back when the time is right."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>They gathered at a reasonably remote spot, noteworthy only for a large sign on the edge of the road. In this place and at that time there was no traffic to speak of, but even so they lost no time setting the place up for its moment of glory. Three strong men combined managed to lift a concrete slab from the back of the first truck, placing it on the ground. A woman put a small stand on the slab and put a cage full of mice on the stand, while another set up a video camera, positioned to take in the whole scene.</p>
      <p>Inside the van, the men put on loose sweat suits, gloves, and balaclavas, while the second woman checked herself in the mirror and made sure she looked her most professional.</p>
      <p>"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>"It has to be me, Dad, we've talked about it," said Alex.</p>
      <p>"You could be giving up your career."</p>
      <p>"It has to be done, Dad, and if I lose my career doing that, then it isn't a career I want to keep."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted his approval. "That's my girl." He and the other men checked each other for identifying marks, before he picked up his camera.</p>
      <p>Chuck picked up another camera, and made sure the feeds were correct. The signals from the two hand-held units appeared as inset windows in the main window. "All set."</p>
      <p>Carina set herself up behind the camera, prepared to direct, and Alex put on her headset. When the stage was clear Carina raised her thumb, pressing 'record'. The camera panned down from the billboard, with a picture of Alex smiling, to the woman herself, standing on the slab. Two men with cameras were in plain view, but unidentified. Carina pointed at Alex.</p>
      <p>"My name is Alex McHugh, " she said calmly and slowly, as they trained her to do for all the public appearances she made. "I am an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but this video is not being made with their approval or authorization." She stayed facing the main camera, ignoring the two cameramen. The long shot was the most important, to prove that no edits were made to the record they were making.</p>
      <p>The third unidentified man stepped up to the slab, and handed her his burden. Alex displayed it for all the cameras. "This is the Norseman device, the world's most efficient killing tool. With nothing more than a sample of a victim's DNA this device can kill, inescapably and undetectably."</p>
      <p>The roving cameras pulled in, one to catch the details as the third man took a mouse at random from the cage and wiped the inside of its ear with a swab. Once the mouse was back in the cage, the second camera followed the swab as its end was cut and placed into the Norseman's sample tray.</p>
      <p>Alex pulled the trigger on the weapon from the far side of the slab, and the second camera caught the whine of its activation as the first camera caught the sudden death of one mouse among a dozen others. The third man stepped up and retrieved the dead body, placing it inside an evidence bag which was then sealed, dated, and placed on the stand next to the cage.</p>
      <p>"Any man, any agent, any minister, any head of state, can be killed as easily." Alex displayed the device again. "There are no more, nor are there any design documents. Even its maker, Alexei Volkoff, felt it was too dangerous to use, and recent events have shown that this is true. So…This is the Norseman." She put it down on the slab, then stood back, indicating the third man and his current burden. "And this is a fifteen pound sledgehammer."</p>
      <p>The man swung his tool with a will, destroying the most advanced killing tool on the planet with the most primitive. Once pulverized the remains were doused with an accelerant and set on fire. After a moment the fire was extinguished and the remaining scraps scooped up and put into another bag.</p>
      <p>Alex took center stage again, holding the bag. "This ends the demonstration."</p>
      <p>Carina stopped the recording, and yielded her place to Chuck as the others started to dismantle the stage. "Youtube?" she asked.</p>
      <p>"Maybe eventually," he said. "Right now we stick to the plan and phase-deploy the recording, try to keep the Powers That Be ahead of the curve. I don't think we need this information going public <em>too</em> quickly." Or at all.</p>
      <p>Carina scoffed. "Good luck with <em>that</em>."</p>
      <p>"Best we can do."</p>
      <p>Casey busied himself polishing the cameras, removing any possible prints, while Alex put the cage of mice in her car, along with the two bags. "Time to face the music," she said.</p>
      <p>"Hopefully there won't be any," said Casey. "We did a good thing here."</p>
      <p>"Without asking permission, so now I have to seek forgiveness instead."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted neutrally. "That's supposed to be easier to get."</p>
      <p>"I guess I'll find out."</p>
      <p>"At least one General will be on your side, and the President's a fair man, I guess." Casey's mouth quirked. "Of course, if it all goes south, you can join us on the lam. Once we break you out of prison, that is."</p>
      <p>Alex hugged her father. "Thanks, Dad."</p>
      <p>"Dude," said Devon, putting down his sledgehammer and pointing at his head. "Can I take this mask off now?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Exit Quinn. In case anyone's forgotten, the glasses in Sarah's pocket carried the inverse of the upload Chuck took in Vail, which was full of Morgan's selfies.</p>
      <p>They couldn't be bothered to tell us what happened to the world's most effective weapon, back in S4. I guess we were supposed to accept that everyone who knew about it would just assume it was destroyed, or something. Once the possibility of its existence was known, everyone would be trying to make one for themselves, but the immediate issue would always be the one that already existed. Until it didn't anymore.</p>
      <p>In the fairy-tale follow-up to this scene, any attempt to build the Norseman would be declared a crime against humanity, and Alex and Team B would be rewarded for doing a service to the world. Some more realistic scenarios would have the whole issue swept under a very large rug, or Congressional Investigations, or Alex reprimanded for overstepping her authority. I don't intend to follow any of those lines, so imagine what you will.</p>
      <p>Comments welcome.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Fancy Free</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>I lost a little bit of time over the weekend, sawing and chopping up wood from some trees we had taken down. Time for the next arc of the season to begin. But first we'll take a little step back in time.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>He's all around."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I meant blessed."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Time to go.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You can join us on the lam."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The night before…</p>
      <p>The trill of the phone seemed more strident than usual. His wife's voice, when he answered it, was low and calm, steady. "Stephen?"</p>
      <p>That's how Orion knew he was in trouble. "Yes, dear?"</p>
      <p>"Your brilliant ploy with Sarah's charm bracelet was about, hmm, ninety-percent successful."</p>
      <p>The 'ninety percent' threw him off his guard. <em>Only ninety? </em>"What happened?"</p>
      <p>"Well, nothing fatal," said Mary, "Or even dangerous, or we'd be having a very different talk. Just some…interesting side-effects."</p>
      <p>Maybe he misplaced a decimal somewhere. Still, not bad for a rush job. And interesting was good, right? "Excellent. Glad to hear it."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Quick change to DC, and the other end of the call…</p>
      <p><em>He never learns</em>. Mary switched her phone to speaker mode, her voice dropping into a more demanding mode. "Do you mind telling the rest of us what it was?"</p>
      <p>Maybe it was the speaker, but he sounded more uncertain than usual. "'The rest of us' being who, exactly?"</p>
      <p>"Oh, that would be me, the woman who knows where you sleep at night, your daughter-in-law the assassin, her husband, possibly the only man on the planet who could penetrate whatever electronic defenses you put up if he had a real motive to do so, and his sister, the mother of your first and only grandchild, who might very well determine your visiting privileges based on what you say right now."</p>
      <p>Ellie frowned at the phone.</p>
      <p>They heard him swallow, three thousand miles away. "Um…"</p>
      <p>"Think of it as a report on a laboratory experiment, Dad," said Ellie, playing along. "With Sarah as your lab rat, since that's obviously how you thought of her at the time."</p>
      <p>"Now that's not fair," said Stephen. "I was trying to save her life, as stealthily as possible. It's not my fault that she left in the middle of the night."</p>
      <p>"No," agreed his wife. "But it is your fault that you deployed materiel into the field without giving your personnel the information they needed to know, especially the interesting side-effects."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in LA., and glad of it…</p>
      <p>"There shouldn't have been any side effects," said Stephen defensively. He took refuge in tech-speak. "Look. It was clear from the way the lab's electronics diverted the Norseman's beam to Ellie that the original target could be masked. All my fob did was screen the wearer, masking their cellular vibratory signature so the Norseman wouldn't find them."</p>
      <p>"I think she would have noticed a fob the size of my lab, Dad."</p>
      <p>"Obviously, Eleanor," said Stephen impatiently. "I couldn't generate the field, so I did the next best thing. I amplified and broadcast an existing one instead."</p>
      <p>"But then you'd need–Where–?" said Ellie, working it out with her usual speed. He could only be proud of her. "Oh, no. Tell me you didn't–"</p>
      <p>"Well what else could I have used?"</p>
      <p>"El?" His son's voice sounded nervous. Stephen wondered what his daughter looked like right now, but then decided he was better off not knowing.</p>
      <p>"He used your brain scans, Chuck!" said Ellie. Hundreds of hours of brain scans, taken by her, but not for this. "He surrounded Sarah with an electromagnetic field resonating to your brainwave patterns, a virtual <em>you</em>."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Wide-eyed in DC…</p>
      <p>Stephen sounded offended. "Now, Eleanor, I filtered those out…" That's why he needed so many, since they were primarily brain wave scans, after all. Distilling the vibratory signature out was a job and a half.</p>
      <p>Ellie's personal and professional ethics had been violated, and it showed in her voice. "And I'm sure you did a one-hundred percent perfect job, too."</p>
      <p>"So," said Sarah hesitantly, not quite sure what she was afraid of, or who, "All this time I thought Chuck was around me…?"</p>
      <p>"Chuck really <em>was</em> all around you," finished Ellie. She reached over and clasped Sarah's hand again. "Sorry, Sarah, I shouldn't snap at you." She glared at the phone. "It wasn't <em>your</em> fault."</p>
      <p>Surrounded by the essence of Chuck. "It's not like I minded…"</p>
      <p>"Did you mind wanting to claw out your own brain, under the suppressor in Hannah's car?" asked Frost. "Did you mind getting captured, almost tortured, because the suppressor had to be turned off?"</p>
      <p>Contented feeling completely gone. "I had everything under control…!"</p>
      <p>"On the other hand," said Carina quietly, either because she was holding a happy infant, or maybe some other reason, "We got the Norseman out of it. I'm not saying that what Stephen did is right or anything, but if he hadn't done it we might still be running around with rigged glasses, hoping they'd take the bait."</p>
      <p>"Which they did," snapped Sarah. Not part of her plan, the one <em>he'd</em> blown out of the water. She wished he was here right now so she could cram that fob down his throat, it's not like it would explode or anything. Except she couldn't. She didn't have the fob, or the bracelet. They'd taken that too.</p>
      <p>"That was a possibility either way, can't blame him for that." Not when they were already talking about one brilliant plan gone wrong. "Since we were being chased by MPs–"</p>
      <p>"It wouldn't have happened if he hadn't–"</p>
      <p>The TV made a sound, cutting everyone off.</p>
      <p>"Hold on, Stephen," said Mary, putting the phone near the set and pressing the 'Accept' button while she was there. She may not have been too happy with her husband just then, but she'd trust him over Beckman any day.</p>
      <p>"Ellie, thank goodness you're up," said the General immediately. She didn't seem to even notice any of the others in the room, not even Carina, standing there making faces at the baby in her arms. "We have a crisis."</p>
      <p>"What is it, General?"</p>
      <p>"Metro police responded to an altercation at the DC Grand Ambassador hotel. Shots had been fired, a room demolished, and several men were discovered dead, including one tentatively identified as Nicholas Quinn."</p>
      <p>Ellie looked at all her family gathered about her. Surely the General had to know that she knew all this already. Chuck made a 'go with it' gesture, so she went with it. "I…thought he was in Japan?"</p>
      <p>"With the failure of his plans there he seems to have found a new patron," said the General, staring at her. "The room was registered to Vivian Volkoff."</p>
      <p>Ellie tried to sound surprised. "She's here? With the Norseman?"</p>
      <p>"If she is here, the Norseman will definitely be with her," said the General. "Several survivors were taken into custody and questioned. Vivian apparently had Agent Bartowski captive in that room. She and a box, probably containing the stolen glasses, had been taken from a crash site in DC, but neither Sarah, Vivian, the box, or the Norseman were to be found."</p>
      <p>"So the crisis is…?"</p>
      <p>"The mercenaries claimed that they were defeated by a three-person team."</p>
      <p>"Agent Charles?"</p>
      <p>"Very likely. I can't think of any other team that could have done it. We must know what went on in that room, but they're currently off grid. If they should contact you in the next day or so, tell them to come in. This is a perfect opportunity to capture the Norseman, if they haven't already, and the DoD is anxious to study it."</p>
      <p>"I thought the DoD wanted them arrested."</p>
      <p>"If Chuck and his team can deliver the glasses, the Norseman, or better yet both, all charges will be dropped."</p>
      <p>Ellie saw a number of significant glances being exchanged around her, although she kept her attention on Beckman. "If they contact me, I'll pass on the message."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Well," said Chuck, once the connection was terminated. "At least now we know where Casey gets it from." The number of lies, omissions, implications, and distinct counterfactuals she'd managed to cram into that short interview was positively breathtaking.</p>
      <p>"Did it ever occur to you that maybe he corrupted her, him and his evil footnotes?" asked Carina. She smiled at the face smiling at her, and said in a breathy, high-pitched voice, "Can you say 'evil footnotes'?"</p>
      <p>"I'm just respecting authority," said Chuck stridently.</p>
      <p>Ellie rolled her eyes, reaching up for her baby, before Carina taught her to say 'evil' anything. "I'm not so sure calling <em>her</em> the evil influence on Casey is what most people call respect, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"Are you kidding?" asked Mary, wondering how she could get hold of some of the Colonel's reports. "She'll preen."</p>
      <p>The sound of a police whistle came from the other side of the room.</p>
      <p>Frost got up and retrieved her phone. "Sorry, dear. We were praising General Beckman's skills at creative mendacity."</p>
      <p>"Is that what you're calling it?" asked Orion. "Okay, you've got a day, maybe less, before the DoD comes after you, so you need to focus. Did you get the Norseman?" He cared far less about the glasses. Without an Intersect to load, they were harmless, and he was actively keeping an eye out for new construction with Intersect-related materials.</p>
      <p>"Yes." Got it, broke it up, and separated the pieces.</p>
      <p>"What are you going to do with it?"</p>
      <p>"What do you think we're going to do with it?" said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Good boy."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The day after they did what he thought they were going to do with it…</p>
      <p>Manoosh's monitor made a sound, and he reached up accept the contact without looking.</p>
      <p>Hannah's face appeared on the screen. "Where have you been?" Then she actually saw what she was looking at. "What are you doing?"</p>
      <p>"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, out of breath.</p>
      <p>"Lifting the smallest set of dumbbells I've ever seen."</p>
      <p>"Gotta start somewhere," he gasped, setting them down, red-faced.</p>
      <p>Hannah prepared to call a medic, or sound an alarm. "Since when have you been a fitness nut?"</p>
      <p>"Since…last…night," he puffed, collapsing in his chair.</p>
      <p>Hannah thought hard. "You stumped me, Manoosh."</p>
      <p>"Frost and Alex," said Manoosh, having recovered the ability to string short words together. "Needed…backup."</p>
      <p>"Alex?" asked Hannah. "Who's Alex?"</p>
      <p>"FBI," said Manoosh. "Agent McHugh."</p>
      <p><em>And you call her Alex? </em>"Two Federal agents heading into a hostage-rescue scenario decide they need backup and they choose you?"</p>
      <p>"What's so strange about that?" asked Manoosh, a bit stung by her casual disbelief. "Aren't you the one who's always telling me to never put myself down?"</p>
      <p>"Manoosh, we're tech support."</p>
      <p>"Maybe that's all you are, Mrs. Big Dog Run-with-the-Hounds, but not me," yelled Manoosh, holding up a set of frames from last night. "I made these glasses, that's why they brought me into this project. I made them, I programmed them, and I used them."</p>
      <p>She knew all that. He'd built them on contract, tried to stiff his employer, and found out the hard way that all the skills in the world aren't enough."Yes, but what about last night?"</p>
      <p>"I'm talking about last night!"</p>
      <p>"Why are you yelling at me?" asked Hannah. "I'm your friend, we were in the middle of a mission and you disappeared. I was concerned."</p>
      <p>"I'm sorry," said Manoosh, putting his hands over his eyes. "I just have this monster headache."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Devon came into the house quietly, knowing that Ellie'd had a late night. The excitement of the whole thing was wearing off, and right now all he wanted was to down a glass of his favorite shake and crawl in next to–"Ho! Ellie? What are you doing up?"</p>
      <p>She yawned. "So how'd it go?"</p>
      <p>"Piece of cake, babe," said Devon, getting a glass. "One take, one time. No one wanted to kill any more mice than they had to, so they were planning the whole thing all the way out there."</p>
      <p>"I wish I could have seen it, seen you swing that hammer," said Ellie. "I bet you looked awesome."</p>
      <p>He'd performed an emergency surgery, cutting out something unhealthy, for the greater good. He could get behind that. "It felt pretty good, babe." He'd smashed the thing that almost killed his wife and child. "Great, even." But he'd had to wear a mask, take part in an off-the-books operation that could get people he considered family in trouble. Not his thing at all. "Not awesome."</p>
      <p>Ellie stood up, came around the table, and kissed her man firmly. "I think <em>I</em> should be the judge of that."</p>
      <p>Devon grinned at her. "I throw myself upon the mercy of the court," he said, scooping her up in his arms.</p>
      <p>The phone rang. Totally not awesome.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Alex was no stranger to this office. She'd sat here just a few months ago, not even a year, afraid that her acceptance into the academy was going to be reversed. What would she have told her mother? "I washed out because the fiancé you think is dead got me dragged into the middle of an unsanctioned operation"? Her mother had her life back, and Alex wasn't about to ruin it now with a little thing like the truth. It was as close as she ever wanted to come to lying, having seen what it did to her father. Which would still have been easier than the dancing she'd had to do around the truth, when she had to explain to her mother how she'd managed to earn a commendation almost as soon as her photo ID had been printed, without mentioning who'd brought her into it.</p>
      <p>On the other hand, it made the whole bachelorette party episode easier to believe. She'd thought it was an unscheduled exercise for one of her classes at first, until real bullets started flying around real civilians and she did what they told her to do in her classes. The politics of it annoyed her, that she would get an award for simply doing what they were training her to do.</p>
      <p>Especially when it interfered with her career development. She'd almost been stuck in a closet on her first real mission, thanks to her high profile, except that the bad guys had two bases and they needed someone to lead the attack on the other one. So to be here, now, the spear tip of an operation that could completely upset this little applecart, seemed just so <em>right</em>, somehow.</p>
      <p>The phone rang, and the secretary responded. "The Director is ready for you, Agent McHugh."</p>
      <p>Alex picked up her briefcase, containing a single disc and nothing else. "Thank you." Ten minutes to the end of the world.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Manoosh?" called Ellie, before she'd even completely exited the elevator. It wasn't like she even needed to, Hannah'd already told her where he was, and if what she said was accurate (and what Hannah said was always accurate), Manoosh wasn't going to be moving from there any time soon. But she wasn't calm Rational Ellie at the moment, she was uncalm Substitute Mother-figure Ellie, fearing for a substitute-substitute son-by-association.</p>
      <p>He'd collapsed in his chair and he'd stayed collapsed, breathing deeply, but not answering her call. A quick check of the most important vitals told her he wasn't on the verge of death, so the next thing was to find out what he was on the verge of, and the most complete and efficient set of telemetrics in the world was right next door. She lifted him up out of the chair with casual strength, taking him into the Intersect Room and the scanner he loved so much.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah sat on the couch, her husband's head in her lap, looking up at her as she looked down at him, running her hands through the curls of his hair. "So, blueberries or strawberries?"</p>
      <p>"Um, blueberries?" he said, after having gotten strawberries the last three times he'd offered her a choice.</p>
      <p>She reached into one of the bowls–which were sitting on his chest, dammit, he much preferred it when she stretched her body out over his, reaching for them on the table, but as she'd pointed out, this was not the time–and placed one of the requested fruits in his mouth.</p>
      <p>Ah, life on the lam. He could get used to this.</p>
      <p>The screen lit without warning, not its usual crisp image but with a pattern of smudges that looked like a human face when seen from far enough away. "Agents Bartowski," said the General.</p>
      <p>"Aahh!" Chuck jerked upright, sending the berries flying but managing to catch about half of them before they hit the ground.</p>
      <p>Sarah recognized the image first, of course, having seen it before. "General? Why do you look like that?"</p>
      <p>"It's hard to make the claim that your best, if currently renegade, spy team is missing and unreachable when the person you're saying it to can access your phone records," said Beckman. "Your father has proven amply over the years that he can bypass most of our countermeasures, so I put that skill to good use."</p>
      <p>"At least you agree on something," said Chuck, picking up the spilled fruit.</p>
      <p>"Ultimate weapons can do that. I can't wait to hear about what you did with it."</p>
      <p>"We–"</p>
      <p>"Through proper channels, please, Agent Bartowski," said the General quickly. "I want to do my best to appear surprised." The easiest way to do that was to actually <em>be</em> surprised, and she had no doubt she would be.</p>
      <p>"Yes, General."</p>
      <p>"Since I think it's fairly safe to say you won't be surrendering the Norseman to the DoD, and since Stephen says you lost the glasses to Vivian Volkoff, through his own well-meant but unexpected interference, you can expect some delay in being returned to any kind of active-duty status."</p>
      <p>"Yes, General," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Not you, Agent Bartowski," said Beckman. "As far as anyone's been able to tell, you're relatively blameless in this affair, so you will be restored to duty immediately."</p>
      <p>"Without Chuck?"</p>
      <p>The smudges either smiled or frowned, it was hard to tell. "I didn't say that, Sarah," said Beckman. "Your husband will be some time being restored to active duty, but we have another role which should suit him admirably."</p>
      <p>"Janitor again?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>Sarah knew where a brand-new pair of bolt cutters was, if so. "What role, General?" she said, perhaps more forcefully than was really proper.</p>
      <p>Beckman hesitated. "Your team really does inspire the most bizarre and occasionally quixotic loyalties," she said at last. "Mr. Depak took it upon himself last night to upload the skill sets, along with whatever data was needed to employ them, in order to support Frost and Agent McHugh in their rescue effort."</p>
      <p>"Oh dear."</p>
      <p>"Ellie has him under observation," continued the General, "And she's preparing a battery of tests, both laboratory and field trials…"</p>
      <p>"<em>Field</em> trials?" said Sarah in surprise.</p>
      <p>"He seems eager enough. We'll be making a virtue of necessity, surrounding him with a team ready to support and, if necessary, contain his enthusiasm."</p>
      <p>"Oh dear," said Chuck again. He knew what it meant when Casey sounded like that, and it was never good.</p>
      <p>"Congratulations, Chuck," said the General, living down to his expectations. "Now it's your turn."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>No Morgan-sect her. Not sure this will work out any better.</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I never would have guessed that Jean-Claude was played by Mark Hamill.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>I was trying to save her life."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Now we know where Casey gets it from."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I just have this monster headache.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Now it's your turn."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You can't find it?" asked Mary, the second she got in. "You built it. It's sending out a signal that <em>you</em> made!"</p>
      <p>Stephen sat slumped in his chair, staring at his screen. "The fob's signal isn't meant for any long-range transmission. The tracker is, but that got burnt out under the suppressor."</p>
      <p>They couldn't find the bracelet. "I'm not going to say anything to Sarah unless she asks." This wasn't a truth she wanted to tell.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A day or so later…</p>
      <p>Vivian checked her records for the umpteenth time that day, again with the same result. As of yesterday her computer man had been unable to find any traces of Hydra activity. Her accounts were tallying exactly with her logged invoices. The additional records that Hydra was generating on its own had stopped. Wherever Hydra was, whoever had it, they must have shut it down rather than risk her finding it.</p>
      <p>How thoroughly marvelous.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Some time after that…</p>
      <p>"Well, that could have gone better," said Casey, stomping down the stairs of their war-surplus training base. "Even though that vase is supposed to be our payment." Normally John Casey would have distanced himself in every way from a word like 'payment'. His salary went directly into an account which he tended to think of as a war chest, rather than a retirement fund, because people like John Casey don't expect to retire.</p>
      <p>However, soldiers like John Casey did expect quarters that suited their rank, which these did not. General Beckman may not have been displeased with them (or she may have, the bunker could have been taken either way), but the politics of the situation they'd put her in forced a certain… circumspection.</p>
      <p>Sarah did her best to help. As the only member of the team not in the doghouse with the Powers That Be, and pregnant to boot, she'd been tasked with the development of training scenarios for the newest Intersect, Manoosh Depak. Knowing as she did how many and varied the motivations of people like him (nerds, that is) could be, she was experimenting, while mixing in a hefty dose of basic psychology. In this scenario, the successful acquisition of the vase, and more importantly the chip inside it, would have 'paid for' an upgrade from the dump they were in to someplace above the ground.</p>
      <p>"I'd pay six mil for it," said Manoosh, running a fingertip over the delicate, glazed ceramic. "Who wouldn't?"</p>
      <p>"I wouldn't," said Casey. "I would've let the damn thing fall and walked through the pieces, rather than let the bad guys get away."</p>
      <p><em>Philistine. </em>"You have no soul."</p>
      <p>"Not when it gets in the way of accomplishing mission objectives," barked Casey. "Get the chip, catch Jean-Claude, end of story. Which does not mean we let Jean-Claude escape, because we were too busy using our Intersect reflexes to catch the vase after he threw it out the window."</p>
      <p>"It's a work of art!"</p>
      <p>"That you let him use against you."</p>
      <p>Manoosh turned to what he took to be a higher authority. "Chuck, a little help here, buddy?"</p>
      <p>Chuck restrained a sigh, trying not to project an image of long-suffering patience to his asset. He was suffering, though, like Sarah he was unable to emotionally distance himself from his asset. He looked up. "Manoosh, if this were a private business, I'd agree with you. I'd put this in the 'win' column, maybe a win with a little star next to it. We recovered the chip, took it away from Jean-Claude, which was important."</p>
      <p>Manoosh smirked at Casey, which wasn't the best idea he'd ever had.</p>
      <p>Chuck rushed to head them off at the pass. "But this isn't private business, and that wasn't the most important thing. We all took an oath of service, and that oath trumps whatever we might want to do personally."</p>
      <p>"That wasn't part of any oath <em>I</em> took," said Manoosh. He mostly remembered the 'go to jail' parts.</p>
      <p>"You chose to upload the skills," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"To save <em>your </em>daughter!"</p>
      <p>"You didn't know she was his daughter when you did it," said Carina. "She was just a 'hot babe' dating a Neanderthal, and you couldn't stand that."</p>
      <p>"There's nothing 'just' about Al–Agent McHugh," said Manoosh, realizing a little late that first-naming the Colonel's daughter might not be the best thing he could do right now. And if she used his heroic rescue as an excuse to throw over her aboriginal boyfriend and trade up, would that be so wrong? It wasn't why he did it. Agent McHugh needed backup and he gave it (because, you know, he could do missions and the boyfriend couldn't), what's so wrong about that?</p>
      <p>Casey had to give him that much. There was nothing 'just' about his daughter. "The point is, you put government property in your head. That gave you a responsibility, an obligation, that Manoosh the lab rat would never have."</p>
      <p>"So how come Chuck didn't?" Manoosh winced inside. Possibly not the best example.</p>
      <p>"That's 'Agent Charles' to you," snapped Carina. <em>Which should also answer your question.</em></p>
      <p>"He's right, though," said Chuck. "I got the skills, and I chose not to use them."</p>
      <p>"You were more useful in the lab, at the time," said Casey. "The only reason you aren't still, is because of Manoosh here."</p>
      <p>"Manoosh made it <em>possible</em>," amended Carina. "Once we destroyed the Ring Chuck went right back into the lab until the Atroxium forced him out."</p>
      <p>"Wait a minute," said Manoosh, not the smartest guy in the room but a close second. "You're not sticking me back in the lab!"</p>
      <p>"We're trying not to, in case you missed it," said Carina, "You're the one who brought it up."</p>
      <p>"Well I take it back." <em>Somebody get me the Mona Lisa and a flamethrower.</em></p>
      <p>"Fine, so we can rerun the scenario and get out of this hell-hole."</p>
      <p>"Maybe later, Casey," said Sarah, over in the corner doing a great job at being invisible. She'd have to tweak the scenario considerably first. "But something useful has come up. I had Hannah keep her eyes open for something more realistic, and she found it."</p>
      <p>Chuck's eyes went wide. "'Realistic', as in…?" He pointed upward.</p>
      <p>"Exactly. A real mission, with real bad guys. What do you say?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Decker. No, still nothing to report…it's like it just dropped off the face of the–I know that's impossible! There's no way any agency in DC would let any other agency in DC have that much power. Only the DoD is still scrambling, but that's the only reason anybody…What's going on internationally? ... Maybe we should tell a few people, let them start making inquiries for us…Of course we have to find…because she has the box. If we can't get her toy back, why would she think she has anything to gain by…exactly." <em>Idiot. </em>"I won't say anything until she asks…Of course I'll lie, that's what I do."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Well, I must say I am impressed, " said General Beckman. The bunker looked like the secure office of a very secure company, not a leftover hole in the ground. "Especially considering your budget."</p>
      <p>"We had a budget?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"No."</p>
      <p>He didn't think so. Good thing they had their stolen goods from the Large Mart, and a con man's daughter, well used to making the appearance of something. Only the screens were real, stolen from the Buy More by some large people in Large Mart red. Retaliation for the earlier break-in, of course. The images on the screens came from two nerds' fertile imaginations, a lot of red Bull, and a competitive streak neither had expected.</p>
      <p>Beckman liked the creative use of light and dark to hint at further recesses of the facility. The weapons had to have come from the three agents' personal stockpiles, displayed sideways to take up more room, but even allowing for that she'd seen base armories less well-stocked. Who on Earth supplied the bow? The arrows alone had been fanned out to cover half a wall, and the name covered the rest. "Carmichael Industries?"</p>
      <p>Chuck's hands fumbled. "We thought it set a higher tone…"</p>
      <p>Beckman considered it. "It does, but that's not been the luckiest of names for you."</p>
      <p>"Maybe that's about to change, General," said Sarah. Technically she wasn't supposed to be part of this op, but this op wasn't supposed to be real, either.</p>
      <p>Beckman nodded. Certainly the fortunes of this team looked like they could go nowhere but up, but no one would be so foolish as to say so out loud. "Maybe it is. Where's the rest of your team?"</p>
      <p>"Carina's getting some breakfast, and Casey's bringing in the client."</p>
      <p>"To a <em>secret</em> base?"</p>
      <p>Chuck looked offended on his partner's behalf. "He knows how to keep a secret."</p>
      <p>"I know he does, Agent Bartowski. It's <em>how</em> he does it that worries me, or would, if I had anything to do with this at all." The General looked the room over one final time. "Good luck."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck took his sister's call in the privacy of his laughingly-so-called bedroom.</p>
      <p>"So how's he doing, little brother?"</p>
      <p>"Manoosh is fine, sis," said Chuck, wishing the tiny room he slept in had width to pace in, but it didn't. "He's got the Intersect, and he's doing great with it, better than I did when I started. I'm the one who let him down."</p>
      <p>"I was asking as a doctor," said Ellie, "But as a sister I can tell someone is out of sorts this morning."</p>
      <p>"I'm supposed to stop him from making these mistakes, El."</p>
      <p>"No, Chuck, you're not, take it from an older sibling, which you never were. You can't stop him from making mistakes, and you shouldn't. The best you can hope for is to try to stop him from making <em>your</em> mistakes."</p>
      <p>"I've never been a respected elder before. It feels weird."</p>
      <p>"You'll be a father soon," she pointed out. "The training wheels had to come off sometime. It's not easy, Chuck, but you'll handle it. You always do."</p>
      <p>He blew out a breath, somehow managing to be both nervous and calm at the same time. Thinking about his wife and child did that. "Thanks, sis. I needed a good Ellie speech."</p>
      <p>He could hear her smile. "That's what big sisters are for."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>One secret, underground business deal later, after someone other than Casey had escorted their guest from the premises…</p>
      <p>"Roger Bale." Saying the name himself didn't help. Whatever crimes Mr. Bale was guilty of, they weren't the sort to attract CIA or NSA notice, and if Mr. Woodley was correct, he'd already managed to hoodwink the SEC. "Last things first, we need to get into his computer room."</p>
      <p>"To do that, we need to get into his compound," said Casey. "Serving staff?" He could do that role in his sleep, and it was easy to do last minute.</p>
      <p>She gave him a glass of wine once, and he still remembered it and her. "No one would believe a woman as beautiful as Carina would be just a waitress," said Chuck absently.</p>
      <p>The unexpected comment in the middle of a strategy session slid right past Carina's defenses. "Aw, Chuckles."</p>
      <p>"Hm?" said Chuck, focusing on his team. "What? What'd I say?"</p>
      <p>Casey rolled his eyes while Carina shook her head.</p>
      <p>"I'll tell you later," said Sarah with a smile. "You're thinking about ways to get an invitation, aren't you?"</p>
      <p>"Guests have more freedom of movement." And entourages, at the very least a bodyguard.</p>
      <p>"So we need to be guests. Which means either Bale invites us or we invite ourselves."</p>
      <p>"Either way we need to get close to Bale right now."</p>
      <p>"Piece of cake," said Sarah. "He takes his meetings at that beach club, distracting all the suckers with eye candy he doesn't even have to pay for. Carina will blend right in."</p>
      <p>The redhead nodded. "I'll just dig out a bikini I haven't worn here yet, and fawn all over him."</p>
      <p>Casey made a face that Chuck agreed with. "That's distasteful."</p>
      <p>Carina stood up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I don't mind a bit."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, at poolside...</p>
      <p>"This guy's a major tool," muttered Chuck from his place at the bar."She's hanging on his every word and he spends half the day on his stupid Blackberry." They needed to get that phone, just for a minute, and clearly the usual forms of seduction weren't going to work. Just as well. Carina may not have minded but he did.</p>
      <p>Bale lifted his bag up into his lap and Chuck flashed. "Okay, this guy has a bag from the Kensington Racquet Club, which means he's a member, and I doubt he's carrying the bag for his health. Manoosh, see if you can access their schedule and find out if Mr. Bale has a game today. Get all the details."</p>
      <p>"On it, Chuck, I mean, Agent Charles, sir," said Manoosh, and Chuck looked over as Carina started choking. She stood up, waving off assistance from the suddenly considerate Mr. Bale, and left the scene.</p>
      <p>"Good job, Manoosh," said Chuck. "Carina's clear."</p>
      <p>"Huh? What'd <em>I</em> do?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at base...</p>
      <p>"Okay," said Chuck, back in their little hole in the ground. "Roger Bail has a secure Blackberry that we need to access in order to get an invitation to his party, and he has a scheduled squash match this afternoon at two. I see this op having three components, and fortunately we've got three teams. Normally I'd be the one playing squash with Mr. Bale, but since this is also a test for Manoosh, he gets that job."</p>
      <p>"You want me to be his arm-candy, sweetie?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p><em>Who better?</em> "However you want to play it."</p>
      <p>"What's squash, Chuck?" asked Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"It's the snooty version of racquetball."</p>
      <p>"Oh." For a second Manoosh looked enlightened, but the second was over in a second. "What's racquetball, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"Google it. Casey, you have a choice. One of us has to plant the virus on the Blackberry, and one of us has to delay Killer Burnham, Mr. Bale's opponent for today."</p>
      <p>Casey looked interested. "Why's he called 'Killer'?"</p>
      <p>"Does it matter?"</p>
      <p>Casey shrugged. "No, I guess not."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The laundry services smock left in a closet, Chuck strode into the men's locker room as if he owned the place. He stood like a king, surveying his kingdom, listening for the sound of anyone loitering about who really did belong there.</p>
      <p>Nothing. That was good. He got out his lockpicks and started to work on opening the elegant wooden door.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You're Killer Burnham?" asked Bale, seeing his opponent.</p>
      <p>"No, I'm Killer Kadoogan," said Manoosh, letting Sarah tighten his gloves for him. "Thanks, sweetie."</p>
      <p>"I wasn't aware the club allowed your sort to join," said Bale, giving Sarah the twice-over.</p>
      <p>"What, short people?" said Manoosh. "Don't worry, when I stand on my wallet I'm just as blond as you." He looked Mr. Bale over, critically. "You're gonna give me a game, right? Not some percentage player?"</p>
      <p>"I leave the percentages for the small fry," said Bale, swinging his racquet like a scythe. Get rid of this chaff and keep that hot blonde for himself. "I go for the kill. Let's see what you got."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You're a masseur?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah," said Casey, flexing his muscles.</p>
      <p>"You'd break most our regular clientele in half."</p>
      <p>"I'll make every effort not to," said Casey, with every effort at a charming smile. The spa manager took a step backward.</p>
      <p>Someone stuck their head in the door. "Oh, my god, look who's got the next appointment!" He pointed at the monitor. Most of the screen was filled with the guy's shoulders as he swaggered past, and they could see the vicious sneer on his face just too, too well.</p>
      <p>The manager stuck a little towel in Casey's hand. "You're hired!"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The door opened and footsteps approached his position, lighter and faster than Casey's and too heavy to be anyone else. Chuck tucked the phone back in the bag and shut the door, just in time.</p>
      <p>"What are you doing?" asked Bale's bodyguard as he rounded the corner.</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled a towel from the locker next to it, that he'd taken care to open first, just in case. "You're not a member," he said with a frown.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Bale slammed against the wall, another point lost. "You play a good short game."</p>
      <p>"Are we talking squash or the market?" said Manoosh with a laugh. He went to the serve box and let fly.</p>
      <p>Point to Bale. "You got out in time?"</p>
      <p>"I used to stand on my portfolio," said Manoosh. "Now my wallet's taller. Someday it'll switch again."</p>
      <p>"So, uh," said Bale, "You looking to invest?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck walked casually down the hall with Mr. Stark. "To be honest I've often thought myself of acquiring a security man, but really, if I knew people I could trust that well I wouldn't need security people, would I?"</p>
      <p>Stark nodded. "I completely sympathize, Mr. Charles, but most of us are just in it for the paycheck, just honest guys trying to use what they know." Stark coughed discreetly. "Just between you and me, a lot of the time it's the clients who are real scuzzers. No offense."</p>
      <p>"None taken," said Chuck emphatically. "Why do you think I feel the need for protection?"</p>
      <p>"Not that I mind the benefits," said Stark. He indicated the hall before them with a nod. "Look at that babe, for instance. Only in a place like this would she be a waitress."</p>
      <p>Chuck stood to one side as the attractive redhead passed him, taking the lockpicks smoothly from his hand. He looked up at the sign on the door. "Well, here's where we part ways."</p>
      <p>Stark offered him a business card. "In case you feel the need."</p>
      <p>Chuck thanked him and stepped inside. The room was a wreck, with a giant of a man lying unconscious on a gurney. "What the hell happened?" said Chuck. "You were supposed to tranq him."</p>
      <p>"Tranq four hundred pounds of solid meat?" said Casey, wiping the oil off the floor. "Didn't work. So I gave his face a deep tissue massage with my fist."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at base…</p>
      <p>"Manoosh said what?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>"It's fine, Casey," said Chuck. "He accomplished the entire mission, practically by himself." A new mark was more attractive to someone like Bale than all the smoking hot blondes in the world.</p>
      <p>Casey flexed his sore hand, and Chuck felt a little guilty. If anyone was the insurance policy here, it was him. "Only if you know where we can get forty million dollars overnight," said the big guy, having gotten his point across.</p>
      <p><em>No budget.</em> Chuck smiled as he sat before his stolen laptop. "Actually, I think I do."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>The plotting of this part of the canon episode baffles me. Why have Morgan play Bale at all? Burnham would have kept him equally busy. Why stand there waiting for the virus to upload? Just plant it and leave, go back for it later. I was going to delete the Stark scenes entirely, but then he handed Chuck a business card and I wondered what could come of that somewhere down the line. So he stayed.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> It's not that I mind Yvonne Strahovski prancing around in her underwear, but they could have done more with that whole scene than just that. Chuck's self-pity was one of the least enjoyable aspects of this episode, so I dumped that as well. My version got a bit silly, and I'm sure a lot of you will recognize some of the other shows I 'borrowed' from here.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>That could have gone better."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I must say I am impressed."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I don't mind a bit.</em><em>"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Manoosh said what?"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Clyde Decker fetched up outside Vivian Vokoff's door, but he got no further. "Miss Volkoff has said she does not want to be disturbed," said her man Carmichael.</p>
      <p>Decker stared at the underling, a glare promising painful retribution, but Carmichael seemed unconcerned, and why shouldn't he? He was more than Volkoff's employee, he was her man, her faithful servant, and Volkoff took that kind of crap seriously. He took an arrow through the arm for her, for god's sake, and followed it up by jumping off a building! "Fine," said Decker, and walked away.</p>
      <p>Let the great Miss Volkoff learn of his victory against Agent Charles after the fact.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Okay," said Chuck, setting his phone down as they gathered around the table for the next round of planning. "Between Carina and me, the virus was successfully, if unnecessarily, planted. Manoosh found his own way in, and we've transferred a couple of million into Bale's accounts, that should be enough to get this pumpkin into the ball, uh, I mean, the party." Chucked looked down at the table. "Right."</p>
      <p>Secret shared glances all around the table. "All right, Chuck," said Carina, "What's the problem?"</p>
      <p>Chuck raised his head, trying to stand taller. "Problem?" he said, his voice getting a bit more shrill. "No problem."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, right," said Casey. "You think we haven't worked together long enough to know when you haven't had your Wheaties, Bartowski?"</p>
      <p>"Now that's a physical fitness reference there, Casey," said Chuck. "We have really got to work on your metaphors."</p>
      <p>Casey leaned forward onto his fists. The table creaked. "If you don't stop stalling I'm gonna start working on my anger management issues…"</p>
      <p>"Fine, fine," said Chuck, backing down. "It's really just me being stupid anyway, but I just…you know, I guess I got kind of spoiled. We had a lot going for us before, we were the A team, and now look at us…"</p>
      <p>"Chuck, you're an idiot," said Carina.</p>
      <p>Casey pulled back, looking shocked. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"</p>
      <p>"You call him the same thing a dozen times a day," said Manoosh, sitting with his feet on the table.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, but I never <em>mean</em> it."</p>
      <p>"Well…maybe she doesn't either."</p>
      <p>"Oh, I mean it," said Carina. "Chuck, how many other teams, in a situation like this, would even have a pumpkin, much less a ball to take it to?"</p>
      <p>He shrugged. He'd only been on the one team. "I'm going to guess none?"</p>
      <p>"Don't be stupid, Bartowski, they all would," said Casey. "But they'd be smaller pumpkins, and a lot more complaining about it. As far as I'm concerned, it's like those slackers say in the Army, 'discipline in ideal circumstances is useless. It's discipline under fire that counts.'" He gave the dingy room a dark and unhappy glance. "Just because we've moved to a different hole in the ground doesn't mean we're not still the A team." To succeed in this hell-hole they almost had to be.</p>
      <p>"And the B team," added Manoosh.</p>
      <p>Chuck managed a weak smile at the feeble joke. Casey glared at him. Something made a growling noise.</p>
      <p>"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you didn't get <em>that</em> one," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Oh, I got it, pipsqueak," said Casey. "But that wasn't me." He pointed at the phone on the table. "What the hell's wrong with that, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>The phone was a purely electronic device that sounded as if it had engine trouble. Chuck picked it up and listened, eyes wide. He tapped the screen a few times, and his eyes got even wider. "Oh, crap."</p>
      <p>"What's going on, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>Chuck check all points of the compass and a couple from the zodiac for good measure. "You guys have to keep this quiet."</p>
      <p>"No promises, Chuckles," said Carina. Threatening to tell was most of the fun of blackmail.</p>
      <p>"I'm not asking for any. I don't have to." Chuck leaned in real close. "That was my father. He used a special tonal encryption scheme that only we know, to everyone else it sounds like, hmm, actually, Casey might pick it up right off."</p>
      <p>"Ha-ha, Bartowski. What'd he say?"</p>
      <p>Chuck looked around again. "He said they can't find Sarah's bracelet. It's not coming up on any of his scanners."</p>
      <p>Casey backed away from the table. Carina almost, well, actually she <em>did</em> shout "Oh my God," but she slapped her hand over her mouth so it wasn't very loud.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked around in confusion. "So, what? We're supposed to tell her–?"</p>
      <p>Casey backed away slowly from the dangerous lunatic. "Are you nuts?"</p>
      <p>Carina dropped her hand. "I'm not telling her nothing, Mr. Look-at-me-I-have-the-Intersect. <em>You</em> can go right ahead."</p>
      <p>Somewhere, a bulkhead door closed. Sarah had arrived. Casey came to attention, and Carina started scrubbing at her hand with a tissue.</p>
      <p>Manoosh began to dimly sense that 'going right ahead' would not be a good idea. "Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"Oh, gosh, look at my wrist," said Chuck, holding up his hand and rising from the table. "I'm late for my shift at the Buy More, who's going to keep Jeff and Lester in line…?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere in Burbank…</p>
      <p>"This great, Jeffrey," chortled Lester. "Where did you get all the parts to make it look so realistic?"</p>
      <p>"It is real," said Jeff. "You remember my friend Joe?"</p>
      <p>"You stole a paraplegic's wheelchair?" asked Lester, either amused, admiring, or appalled. It was hard to tell.</p>
      <p>"Nah, I just borrowed it," said Jeff. "What? He was already in the bathroom, and it's not like he could come after me. That's the beauty of it, by the time he could even reach a phone he'll already have it back…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In a hole under DC…</p>
      <p>"You quit the Buy More two years ago."</p>
      <p>"Big Mike said he'd take me back anytime, and that includes now."</p>
      <p>"But what about the plan?" asked Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"I don't love that plan!" said Chuck, backing away, and he turned to go. "I'll think of another one on the–"</p>
      <p>Sarah stood there in front of him. Damn she was quiet! "Another one on the what, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>Chuck slapped a hand over his mouth and mumbled into it.</p>
      <p>Sarah reached out and pulled his hand down. "What was that, husband?"</p>
      <p>"On the toilet. Carina kissed me and I wiped it off, so now I have to go wash my hand, and I thought, waste not want–"</p>
      <p>Sarah gripped his jaw firmly, turning his head so she could look at it from all sides, and looked at his palm. "Not seeing any lipstick, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"Oh, ah, Ha!" he said pointing at Carina's hand, already smeared in her shade of the day. "She got it already, thanks, Carina, I didn't even see you move..."</p>
      <p>Sarah pulled his head back around. "And why would Carina be kissing you, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"Be…cause I told her about her part in my new and improved plan."</p>
      <p>Sarah let him go. "Which is?"</p>
      <p>"Snooty Mr. Charles' trophy girlfriend."</p>
      <p>"Sounds like the old plan to me, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"I didn't say that was the new part," said Chuck. "I'm allowing for improvisation, you know, like, uh…Casey!" Chuck ran around the table, and threw his arm around the big guy's shoulders before he could get away. "Instead of Casey being your accountant, he could be Chalmers, Manoosh's mute manservant. Or better yet–" Chuck moved behind him. "Mr. Charles' newly-hired bodyguard."</p>
      <p>Casey took a step to the left.</p>
      <p>Sarah put on a tiny smile. "Why not your <em>mute</em> bodyguard?"</p>
      <p>"That's a great idea!" yelled Chuck, taking a step to the left too. "Way to brainstorm, Sarah!"</p>
      <p>Casey growled into his ear.</p>
      <p>Chuck stepped back. "Bodyguard is fine."</p>
      <p>Sarah stared at them all, one by one. When she got to Manoosh his chair tipped backward and spilled him on the floor. He didn't stop smiling at her.</p>
      <p>"Fine," Sarah said mildly. "Plan approved." She turned and walked back out through the door.</p>
      <p>They all sagged. "Ow," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>Sarah came back in and they all snapped to attention. "Chuck, I'm going to need you to help me pick out my outfit for tonight's operation, everything from the lingerie on up."</p>
      <p>Chuck just stared. "L-lingerie?"</p>
      <p>Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled. "All of it, sweetheart. I know it's not in your plan, but you never can tell what I may have to accidentally let slip."</p>
      <p>Chuck grabbed for the door but only succeeded in slamming it shut behind them.</p>
      <p>Casey, Carina, and Manoosh just waited, until at least two bulkhead doors had sealed after the departing couple. Casey and Carina looked at each other. "Ten bucks says she breaks him on the way home."</p>
      <p><em>One-handed? </em>"No bet," said Carina.</p>
      <p>Manoosh lay where he fell, staring at the ceiling. "She's gonna crack him like an egg."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>She sat up in bed, wearing a robe, lavender and fluffy, with nothing underneath. Chuck had indeed broken like an egg, but Sarah had taken her time sifting the pieces for the information she sought. "You know you married a trained spy."</p>
      <p>A soft whisper rose up from the pillow to her right. "I know."</p>
      <p>She rubbed at her arm, trying to run her fingers over charms that were no longer there. "And that training includes Roan's Seduction School."</p>
      <p>"I still say the fishnet stockings were unfair," he moaned.</p>
      <p>"You know what spies say, Chuck?" said Sarah, trailing her fingers along his arm. "'All's fair in love and secrets', except they usually leave off the love part, because spies never fall in love."</p>
      <p>He tried to rise up and face her, but…no. "So that was Sarah the Spy who was doing all those things to me?"</p>
      <p>She sank down to lie next to him, her arm continuing to move over more of him. "No, that was Sarah the Wife, who was sitting at the back of the room during those classes and took lots of notes."</p>
      <p>His breath started to hitch. "Good notes."</p>
      <p>"I'm just so glad I have someone to practice them on." She started kissing the side of his neck. "They're remarkably effective."</p>
      <p>Chuck flashed, regretting it even as he did it. His hand came up and clasped hers, ending its teasing stroke. He rolled her over to lie on the bed as he rose above her. "I don't think you're in any position to make that claim, wife. You didn't uncover a single secret from me. I don't have any, not from you."</p>
      <p>"So your father's news about my bracelet…?"</p>
      <p>"Fell into the new and currently-empty category of things Sarah doesn't need to know about, which, granted, looks a lot like a secret but isn't."</p>
      <p>"What's the difference?"</p>
      <p>Agent Bartowski (male) looked into her eyes. "You know the difference. The loss of signal is a setback, nothing more," he said. "I didn't want you to be upset over nothing, and I still don't, so let me make it as plain as possible. I will get you your bracelet back, I promise."</p>
      <p>"You promise?" That could be bad. Chuck always kept his promises, but Vivian wouldn't give it up willingly.</p>
      <p>"I promise. I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. Anything at all."</p>
      <p>Normally that would put a smile on her face, but his category of 'anything' had been expanded of late and she wasn't too thrilled with that. "Even if you have to–?"</p>
      <p>He put a finger over lips. "That's something else you don't need to think about."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Can I just go on record as saying I hate this plan?" said Casey. Even though, with his role a bodyguard, he was at least allowed to be armed.</p>
      <p>"What?" asked Manoosh, "The other times weren't on record?"</p>
      <p>"I still think we need someone in the van."</p>
      <p>"To do what?" asked Carina, spreading her hands to indicate the lack of surveillance equipment.</p>
      <p>"<em>You</em> ruled Alex out," said Chuck, at the same time, "On the grounds that she quote had bigger fish to fry than us unquote, and General Beckman isn't supposed to know about these little ventures, so who does that leave? Morgan?"</p>
      <p>"He runs a tight little ship, according to the team we have stationed there," said Casey, who got regular reports. "That makes him a good manager, Bartowski, not backup."</p>
      <p>"Not to mention that Alex would kill him and more likely us if she found out," added Carina, adjusting herself in her dress, to the men's discomfort and her own amusement. "She got a little skittish after that last little job he was part of." Which brought down a major spy organization, including its main base, which they happened to be in at the time.</p>
      <p>"So, no reliance on Morgan," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Not unless we've got a party of twelve," said Sarah, the driver.</p>
      <p>The van echoed with silence.</p>
      <p>Sarah looked in her mirror. "What?"</p>
      <p>"Nothing," said Chuck, opening his door. "Time to go."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck and his team held back, allowing at least one other party to enter the doors of Bale's headquarters before them and after team one. No one seemed to take any special notice of them. "Looking good, team one."</p>
      <p>He sped up as smoothly as he'd slowed down before, so no one would notice the difference as he came to the door, invitation in hand. On the stairs they descended slowly, as if inviting the crowd below to ogle them but in fact scanning the crowd below. "There," said Chuck softly, and they veered subtly toward his target as they listened to Bale and Manoosh act like best friends.</p>
      <p>"Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?" Chuck asked his companion, his voice pitched to carry.</p>
      <p>"Yes you did," answered Carina with a blushing smile, "But no girl minds being appreciated."</p>
      <p>"Mr. Charles," said Stark when they reached ground level. "I had no idea you were one of my employer's clients."</p>
      <p>"Neither did I," said Chuck. "How fortunate for us both. Good evening, Mr. Stark, and may I present Miss Miller, to whom you were so kind as to draw my attention just yesterday."</p>
      <p>"Miss Miller," said Stark neutrally.</p>
      <p>Carina made a clumsy curtsy.</p>
      <p>"And my bodyguard," said Chuck, indicating Casey. "Colonel–"</p>
      <p>"I know John Casey, Mr. Charles," said Stark. "We went through jump training together." He saluted. "Colonel?" His voice held a world of questions.</p>
      <p>"Medical leave," said Casey, putting on a pair of glasses. "Just until I can get re-evaluated."</p>
      <p>"Understood," said Stark. Casey was a sniper, and a good one, but if he'd allowed himself to be reassigned he might never get back. "Lady, gentlemen, enjoy the party." He walked away.</p>
      <p>"Good call, Colonel," said Chuck under his breath.</p>
      <p>Casey grunted, the matter too trivial for comment. Of course Stark would be curious. He looked around. The electrical lines in the walls appeared in bright gold, tagged with their likely purposes. He read off the labels to Chuck as they walked, his head swiveling as if checking for hostiles. When he got to the T1 line and the transformer, Chuck stopped him. "That's the one. Follow that line, you find his computer setup. Sarah, we need access."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Chuck!" whispered Manoosh in distress.</p>
      <p>Chuck took a fake sip of his cheap champagne, not having to look. "Steady, Manoosh, she knows what she's doing."</p>
      <p>"But his hands are–that's so disrespectful!" She was no bikini babe to be gawked at. "I have to–"</p>
      <p>"You have to calm down," said Chuck. "This is part of the job, luring him in to make the mistakes we need him to make. Do what I do, think about baseball."</p>
      <p>"I don't know anything about baseball."</p>
      <p>"Try cricket, then."</p>
      <p>"You think, just because I'm Indian, that I care about cricket? That's profiling, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"Fine," said Carina. "Think about the look on his face tomorrow, when he realizes he's been had by a beautiful woman and didn't get to enjoy any of it. Works for me."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Roger Bale played his hand down the blonde's back, knowing her swarthy little sugar daddy was watching. Let him watch. Give him some payback for that humiliating defeat on the court yesterday, above and beyond the humiliation of finding his investment mysteriously disappeared tomorrow. That was an embarrassment he would share with all these people, but Bale wanted him to have a little something extra. Too bad he couldn't take the blonde with him, but his plans were made and in motion.</p>
      <p>If he'd felt Sarah's hands enter his pants pocket he might have reconsidered, but he didn't.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"I'm in," said Casey. "This place is a fortress, you may lose me until–"</p>
      <p>Chuck raised his wrist, as if checking the time, but instead he checked the readouts on the wrist computer to track Casey's progress. He nodded to Manoosh, who gestured to the band leader, to whom he'd given a large gratuity to play his chosen song at his chosen time, and that time was now. With a swoop of triumph he reclaimed his girl from Bale's arm and led her out onto the floor.</p>
      <p>"Enjoying the view?" asked Carina, as Manoosh and Sarah owned the room.</p>
      <p>"Of course," said Chuck, glancing down at the progress bar every few seconds.</p>
      <p>"You don't seem as enthralled as everyone else here."</p>
      <p>"I came with you," said Chuck. "It would be gauche to stare at someone else's date."</p>
      <p>"No one would notice, and that's not stopping anyone else." <em>And she's your wife, and I wouldn't mind.</em></p>
      <p>"Yeah, well…I've also seen her do this so much better. The blue dress is good but that red dress, wow!"</p>
      <p>Carina looked at him funny. "She said you hated the red dress."</p>
      <p>He shrugged. "Bryce was there."</p>
      <p>Carina rolled her eyes, with an exaggerated "urgh!" of frustration, but a loud squeal in their ears made them wince with pain. Fortunately no one was looking at them. Sarah and Manoosh made a single fumble, but the rhythm of the dance kept them moving and no one noticed.</p>
      <p>"Agent Charles, good evening," said the oily voice of Clyde Decker. "Doing your good deed for the week? Trying to get back into someone's good graces?"</p>
      <p>"Decker, what are you doing?"</p>
      <p>"Just freezing the accounts," said Decker, as Chuck's wrist computer started flashing red. "That should set off the alarms very nicely."</p>
      <p>"Don't–"</p>
      <p>"I told you the last time we met that you were a dead man, Bartowski," snapped Decker. "I just didn't say when. You'll be the last to go, trust me on that. You'll probably escape. Too bad about your inside man, though." He laughed obnoxiously in their earpieces. "Oh, by the way, thanks for all the money."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>In canon, Stark met Casey in the locker room at the club. Why the scriptwriters thought Casey could infiltrate the party as Chalmers, the mute manservant, knowing that Stark would likely be there, I'll never know.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> I suppose Casey getting all bent out of shape over Rush Limbaugh, while dismissing the theft from teachers' unions and families, was meant to be a joke. I took the same idea and made it funny.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>I guess I got kind of spoiled."</em></p>
      <p>"'<em>All's fair in love and secrets.'"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>That's something else you don't need to think about."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Thanks for all the money."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Casey! Casey!" yelled Chuck in his head, but outwardly he merely pressed a key on his wrist computer. Several times.</p>
      <p>"You want to cut that out, Bartowski?" said Casey in his ear. "It makes a really annoying beep."</p>
      <p>Chuck sighed loudly. In his head. "Would you rather be caught in the act by lots of men with guns?" asked Chuck. "Decker blew the op, stole my hack and froze all the accounts."</p>
      <p>Grunt. "I figured it had to be something like that. Once your cobbled-together electronic crap went on the fritz I cleared out. Any other day I might have tried to make it work but with <em>no one in the van</em>–"</p>
      <p>"Oh, no."</p>
      <p>That sounded like Chuck wasn't even listening. "What now?" He was just about to get in a good rant.</p>
      <p>"Bale and his men, they're grabbing Sarah and Manoosh. He must think they were involved."</p>
      <p>They <em>were</em> involved. "Not a bad guess."</p>
      <p>"I really hate Decker," said Agent Bartowski (male).</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You have to love that Bartowski," said Clyde Decker (bastard), watching the progress bar as his computer completed the business of freezing all that money. Quick and dirty, just how he liked his operations. They'd have a job unfreezing it for themselves, of course, but they'd gain a little independence from that Volkoff bitch. "Little do-gooding mouse can't help dangling himself in front of this cat." He chuckled into his drink.</p>
      <p>That was an image his underling could understand. "Yes, sir," said Tommy.</p>
      <p>"'We'll see who dies', Bartowski?" said Decker, recalling the scene in his truck, and Agent Charles driving off with his prize, that Winterbottom clown. "I'll show you who dies, one member of your pathetic team after another. You just keep sticking your hand into this saw blade and I'll keep taking off fingers."</p>
      <p>"Yes, sir," said Tommy.</p>
      <p>"I just wish I could go after his parents," said Decker, sounding disappointed, then he brightened. "The sister should be fair game, though. And her husband."</p>
      <p>"Sir?" said Tommy. He loved sisters. Families seemed to suffer more when it was a girl they lost. He didn't get it but he loved to watch.</p>
      <p>Decker seemed to remember he had an underling in the room. "Absolutely, Thomas," he said, patting Delgado's arm. That arm twitched with a reflex to hurt the person who dared touch it, but Tommy was a minion and knew it. Decker smiled again at this sign of his control. "Absolutely."</p>
      <p>"Mr. Decker?" called Vivian, sounding unhappy.</p>
      <p>Clyde lost the smile, and tried to make it sound like he cared, at least until they didn't need that cash cow anymore. "Yes, Miss Volkoff?" he responded.</p>
      <p>She appeared in his doorway. Looking vastly annoyed. "Can you tell me why it appears that government resources have frozen one of my accounts? You're supposed to keep that from happening."</p>
      <p>Uh-oh. "Frozen…?"</p>
      <p>"If I hadn't been investigating a mysterious drawdown I might not have noticed, but believe me I'm noticing now."</p>
      <p>"Someone stole from <em>you</em>?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, two million dollars, but neither wisely nor well. Some brazen little schemer named Bale." Nostrils flared. "I wonder if you would allow me the luxury of borrowing your man Thomas when I go visit this Bale person tomorrow."</p>
      <p>"Certainly," said Decker. He could add as well as anyone. One plus two million plus one equaled–"He could use the exercise." <em>That damned Bartowski!</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at the party…</p>
      <p>"We have to do something."</p>
      <p>Suddenly Carina came between him and his wife. "You have to eat something, you're beginning to stand out," she said. She grabbed an appetizer from a nearly-empty tray. "Here, have a crab cake." She fed it to him delicately, like a new girlfriend would.</p>
      <p>Chuck forced a smile, until he started to chew. "Wow, <em>mumble mumble</em> good!" he said.</p>
      <p>"I know, right?" said Carina. Problem solved. He looked and sounded like everyone else who'd tried one, which was probably why the tray was nearly empty.</p>
      <p>"No, wait a minute," said Chuck, swallowing. "Those are really good, and I've had those before." He lifted Carina's hand to his lips, pretending to kiss the back of it while in reality speaking into his watch's microphone. "Casey, keep an eye out for Morgan."</p>
      <p>"He's here?"</p>
      <p>"Check the caterer. He would never deploy an appetizer into the field without being there to personally observe."</p>
      <p>"Roger that."</p>
      <p>Chuck noted the dance floor filling up now that his partners had been hustled off by the host. With a twist he spun Carina onto the tiles himself. He needed a plan.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey made his way to the cafeteria kitchen, and from there to the catering vans out back. "Grimes!"</p>
      <p>Morgan stepped out from behind the last truck, clipboard in hand. "Next time we go double-plus on the crab cakes," he muttered to himself, writing something down. When Casey's shadow fell over his board he looked up. "Casey?" His smile collapsed. "What is this?" He checked out the suit. "Are you–?" Casey got out his gun. "Oh, man! Alex is gonna <em>kill</em> me!"</p>
      <p>With any luck Alex would never know. "Where's your crew, Grimes?" They could use the backup.</p>
      <p>"Inside, of course, we're handling this whole gig…you're not gonna ruin this for me, are you? It's my biggest score."</p>
      <p>Not even worth a grunt. "Eh, it came pre-ruined," said Casey. "But with your men inside we can minimize the blowback. Give me your radio. Unless I miss my guess, Chuck's inside being clever, so we've got to be ready."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Decker stormed into his suite and closed the door, leaving Tommy to make sure he remained 'undisturbed.' With no way to know which account was hers, he had to unfreeze everything, and of course those lowlifes would snatch it all back as soon as he did. He couldn't even get the tech to do it without having to explain why, so he had to get his own hands dirty. That damned Bartowski, trapping him in his own lie!</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Casey, did you find Morgan?" asked Chuck, while they were necking in the corner. At least, Carina made it look an awful lot like necking to anyone who happened to look into that darkened corner.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, we're out back."</p>
      <p>"Chuck!" yelled Morgan over the sound of some struggling. "Don't ruin this for me, buddy, I'm begging you. This whole project was my idea. If this operation gets busted my boss'll knock me down to pizza chef! And we don't serve pizza."</p>
      <p>The struggling sounds stopped. "Sorry about that," said Casey. "Don't worry, you do whatever you have to do. He'll be safe and sound when you pull whatever stunt you're gonna pull. His crew is all read in. Let 'er rip."</p>
      <p>"Uh, yeah. About that, Casey…"</p>
      <p>Anyone passing by that particular darkened corner would have had cause to wonder what he was doing back there, when Carina started to laugh.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Bale tapped the Enter key with ever-increasing force, as if the computer would care. "The passwords are all changed. What'd you do?" he snarled at his two prisoners.</p>
      <p>"I danced a really great Samba," said Sarah, swaying her hips suggestively. "Thank you, sweetie."</p>
      <p>"Any time, Bunny Doll," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>Bale looked at his men. "I don't want to hear their voices anymore."</p>
      <p>The sound of guns being cocked filled the room, but not the right guns. A group of men all dressed in catering gear stood in the doorway, covering every part of the room with their weapons. "Don't nobody move," said a highly-accented voice, although the accent was kind of hard to pin down. The men parted to let a man walk through, short, bearded, but cool and confident, fully in control of the situation.</p>
      <p>"Who the hell are you?" snapped Bale.</p>
      <p>Morgan struck a pose. "My name," he declared with grand style, like in all the movies, "Is Ettore La Barba." He bowed, to the applause in his head. "And you look like the man who stole my friend Rush Limbaugh's money. I'm here to get it back!"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina entered the ladies restroom, after making sure it was occupied. The other women were standing by the mirrors, chatting as they touched up their make-up. She took a position two spaces down, and opened her clutch.</p>
      <p>"Having fun?" asked one of the other women snidely.</p>
      <p>"The things I have to do." Carina began to touch up her lipstick, leaving the bag open on the counter. Her badge wasn't directly visible but it was if you happened to be looking into a mirror.</p>
      <p>The other ladies suddenly decided they had better places to be.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Ettore La Barba? He knew that name from somewhere. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" said Bale.</p>
      <p>'Ettore' scoffed. "Those newspapers. They take every little story and they–" he made a little explosive sound effect, complete with hand gestures "–they blow it up. Such a tiny nothing, just a little disagreement between me and my wife, my sweet Gracielita."</p>
      <p>"What kind of 'disagreement'?" asked Bale.</p>
      <p>"She did no wanna be married to me no more, and I did no wanna die. We start out, it's all fun and games. She shoot my puppy, so I kill her bunny, but when she kill my favorite horse I think she might be serious, so we made a deal. I found a guy who look like me, she kill him, we burn the body and <em>boom!</em> We no married, and I'm no dead."</p>
      <p>"Couldn't you just get a divorce?"</p>
      <p>"Are you crazy?" said 'Ettore', scandalized. "Divorce is a sin."</p>
      <p>Bale rolled his eyes. "Whatever."</p>
      <p>"You damn right whatever. And now you gonna 'whatever' my friend his two million dollars back!"</p>
      <p>Bale pointed at his console. "I can't."</p>
      <p>Morgan pulled out Casey's gun. "Well then, my friend, these are gonna be the most expensive bullets you ever bought."</p>
      <p>Bale pointed at Manoosh and Sarah. "These two somehow got my accounts frozen. Torture them if you want your money back."</p>
      <p>"It's no my money, it's my friend's money," shouted Morgan, in character. "You think I'm some kind of thief?"</p>
      <p>"No, no, of course not, Signor La Barba," said Bale raising his hands placatingly. "I think you're a good friend. But these two <em>are</em> thieves. They stole my card, tried to steal my money, and until I get my accounts unlocked none of us can get what he wants."</p>
      <p>"They did no take you card," said Morgan, holding up the stolen keycard.</p>
      <p>"You took it?" asked Bale.</p>
      <p>Morgan tsked. "Nobody watches the waiters." He flipped the card on the desk.</p>
      <p>"Very clever," said Bale. "So they may not be thieves but they <em>are</em> witnesses."</p>
      <p>"So you gonna kill them?" asked Morgan.</p>
      <p>"I was thinking you should kill them," said Bale. "You may not be a thief but I'm not a murderer."</p>
      <p>"That's a good point," said Morgan, turning his gun on Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Wait," said the nerd. "Wait, wait. I made my first million with computers like this. Let me try to unfreeze his accounts. You get your friend's money back, I get my money back, and Mr. Bale can do whatever he wants with the rest. Those snobs upstairs deserve it."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina exited the bathroom to find the hall nearly deserted. A few stragglers were following the herd, carefully and efficiently directed to the exits by the surprisingly knowledgeable wait staff. Even the band was packing up early. "Gee, where'd everybody go?"</p>
      <p>"Not sure," said Chuck, snacking on the abandoned hors d'oeuvres. He smiled. "Something about an imminent police action."</p>
      <p>Carina smiled back. "I hope so," she said, running her hands over her hips, "But let's take care of the mission first."</p>
      <p>Casey groaned in their ears. "Bartowski!"</p>
      <p>Chuck acted as if he was shocked. "Hey, she said it."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, but <em>you</em> set it up!" snarled Casey. "Can we move in yet? The sooner her boyfriend's out of there, the happier my daughter will let my life be."</p>
      <p>"Wait for shots fired, Casey, Morgan has to 'kill' the witnesses. Once Sarah and Manoosh are out, you and your team can swoop in." He stripped off his tuxedo jacket, revealing his wrist computer. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to do my part." He started tapping, working his way into the system.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What the hell's going on?" snarled Decker, not the most patient man alive.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"That doesn't look right," said Manoosh. Every time the screen refreshed the numbers were in different places. It didn't help that Bale has hovering over him like that. He hated hoverers.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck stared at his readouts in confusion. "Someone's messing with the accounts." He looked up to find the nearest faux-waiter. "Get me a bottle of Chardonnay ASAP, please."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh stared at his screen in confusion. "Someone's messing with the accounts."</p>
      <p>Bale loomed over him. "If you can't our money back then we have no use for you."</p>
      <p>"I can fix it," said Manoosh. He typed faster.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Decker stared at his screen in confusion. "Someone's messing with the accounts." Tommy just stared at him.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Chuck was typing furiously, one-handed, humming to himself. "…three back doors, no firewalls, and a password in a pear tree…" He dipped his head, sipping some more wine through a straw that Carina had put into the bottle so he wouldn't have to stop.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Goddammit!" shouted Decker, utterly lost.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"And the Piranha wins again!" shouted Chuck, raising his arms in victory.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"I can't control it," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Then you're a dead man," said Bale. He looked over to his partner in crime, and Manoosh followed his gaze, to find himself looking down the surprisingly large barrel of a very large gun.</p>
      <p>"You lose," said 'Ettore'. His gun went off, and Manoosh tumbled backward out of the chair in a crumpled heap.</p>
      <p>"Sweetie!" shouted Sarah.</p>
      <p>"No sweetie for you," said Morgan, aiming at her and pulling the trigger a second time.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Casey!"</p>
      <p>"We heard," said his partner. "We're moving."</p>
      <p>"Lights out," said Chuck, pressing a single key on his board. "Now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The room went dark, the whole building in fact.</p>
      <p>"FBI!" shouted someone down the hall. "Freeze!"</p>
      <p>La Barba's men didn't freeze, it seemed. Bale saw the muzzle flashes as they opened fire, and heard the screams as they died when the FBI guys fired back.</p>
      <p>Bale wasn't the type to face his enemies. "Let's get out of here!" he shouted, running for the emergency exit. His men, clumsy in the dark, must have tripped over everything it was possible to trip over as they tried to follow him. They sounded like a herd of elephants, blind elephants. He turned to call, get them out quietly. Let La Barba go down for the murders. As long as his computers were intact he could get his money back, somehow.</p>
      <p>Dim shapes appeared in the lights from his machines. "Nobody move!" snarled a voice.</p>
      <p>Somebody must have moved, because guns started firing. "No!" shouted Bale, too late. Automatic fire from the door blew all of his machines to hell, sparks flying, and he ran, nothing left to save but himself.</p>
      <p>"NVGs off," said Casey. "Okay, Agent Charles."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the empty ballroom, Chuck pressed a button and the power came back on. Carina stood squarely in front of him, goggles up but otherwise ready to take on all comers. Chuck put down the rest of his Chardonnay with some regret. He was too much of a gentleman not to share, but she wouldn't take anything while she was on duty.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey looked around the room. Morgan lay on the floor along with all of Bale's henchmen, but both Sarah and Manoosh were crouched down, holding the guns they had fired to trigger Casey's deadly response. Manoosh looked at all the destroyed servers sadly. What a waste. Still, he consoled himself (as he always did), Better than Skynet.</p>
      <p>Sarah gave Morgan a nudge and he groaned.</p>
      <p>"What's the matter with you?" asked Casey, pulling him to his feet.</p>
      <p>Morgan reached up to steady his head. "Somebody must have hit me by accident."</p>
      <p>"Whoops," said Manoosh. "My bad."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Bale get away?" asked Chuck when they made it back to the ballroom. Carina, relieved of her duty, snagged the last crab cake, which Chuck had chivalrously left for her.</p>
      <p>"Yep," said Casey, in a satisfied tone. "Hey, save some for me."</p>
      <p>"Wait, you wanted him to escape?" asked Morgan.</p>
      <p>Manoosh pushed past to the buffet. "Not a mission parameter."</p>
      <p>Sarah pushed through to have a reunion kiss with her husband.</p>
      <p>"Neither was ad libbing during Chuck's ad lib," said Morgan, rubbing his shoulder. "I notice that didn't stop you."</p>
      <p>"We don't have the authority to arrest him," said Sarah, after her kiss. "We were supposed to return the money, nothing else. Destroying his operation and driving away his investors was just a frill."</p>
      <p>"A frill to you, maybe," said Morgan, looking at all the food. "Who's gonna pay for all this?"</p>
      <p>Chuck cleared his throat. "I think you'll find when you get beck, that not only has the bill been paid in full, but a generous efficiency bonus was added as a tip."</p>
      <p>Morgan smirked, fiddling with his tie. "Well, we are pretty efficient…"</p>
      <p>"Then how about you efficiently load the leftovers in our truck, Grimes," said Casey. "I'm getting pretty tired of take-out."</p>
      <p><em>Take-out? </em>"You should have said something, Casey. We deliver."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The next day…</p>
      <p>She didn't recognize the number of her phone's screen. That's how she knew who it had to be. "Yes, Agent Charles?" said Diane Beckman.</p>
      <p>"I just wanted to tell you, General, that we completed our operation against Roger Bale last night."</p>
      <p>"So I read in this morning's society page. I choked on my toast."</p>
      <p><em>Society page? </em>Since when did General Beckman have a life? "Our op was running fine until Decker showed up, General, but that's not what I wanted to ask you about."</p>
      <p>She liked a team that stood up for itself. "Oh?"</p>
      <p>"I wanted to know what we should do about the money."</p>
      <p>"Mr. Bartowski, as an agent of the federal government you are obligated to turn over all monies you obtain on a sanctioned operation to your agency's general fund. Your contract with Mr. Woodley was for an estimated four million dollars, yes?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, General."</p>
      <p>"I'll have Mr. Clark send over the appropriate documents. Dismissed."</p>
      <p>"But–" he was talking to the NSA emblem. "I don't think she understands."</p>
      <p>Sarah came in, carrying a few reheated entrees from the party as breakfast. "Doesn't understand what, sweetie?"</p>
      <p>"She's sending us a bill for four million. That's what Woodley agreed to pay." He took a plate from her.</p>
      <p>She sat next to him. "What about the rest?"</p>
      <p>He stared at his plate, full of leftovers. "That's the part I don't think she understands."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Forty million dollars does not just vanish, Mr. Decker!" said Vivian.</p>
      <p>"I know it doesn't, Miss Volkoff," said Decker. "Our forensic accountants gave me a name, a famous hacker called the Piranha. Apparently this is his style."</p>
      <p>Vivian caught Carmichael's gaze in the mirror, and he nodded. "Find him," she snapped into her phone. "Make an example of him."</p>
      <p>"Gladly," said Decker. "You and Mr. Delgado will be returning, then?"</p>
      <p>The car turned into a long driveway, with a large house at the other end. "We're here, Miss Volkoff."</p>
      <p>"Not immediately." She closed the connection.</p>
      <p>After she and Mr. Delgado got out of the car, Mr. Carmichael took it back to the far end of the driveway, to research <em>Piranha, The</em> in blessed silence.</p>
      <p>Delgado pounded on the door, and eventually a scruffy, bleary-eyed man answered it.</p>
      <p>"I'd like to speak to Mr. Bale, please," said Vivian.</p>
      <p>Roger Bale had had a terrible night. The whole way from the ruins of his business to his bolt-hole, with its new identity prepared, he'd been waiting for someone to pounce. Even as his flight took off he was sure someone would stop it and drag him away. Once he was over International Waters a serious drinking binge began, one which he was paying for now. So he was less than civil to his visitors. "Sorry, no one here by that name." He started to close the door.</p>
      <p>Tommy Delgado wasn't used to taking No for an answer. He forced the doorway open wider and stepped through, knocking the former Roger Bale to the ground.</p>
      <p>He scrambled backward, unable to get much purchase on his newly-polished floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"</p>
      <p>"I'd like to talk to you, Mr. Bale," said Vivian, sweeping in majestically, "I have an offer you simply cannot refuse." She closed the door behind her.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Much as I loved Chuck's heroic actions at the end of this episode, I couldn't see a way to use them here. I don't really need to, he's been doing this sort of thing since my last season, really. Zoom didn't have too many hints about Morgan's later problems with the Intersect, but this story has a few for Manoosh, although they might be hard to spot. I also didn't include Decker's monolog from the end, but he's still after Chuck in a different way, and I think this episode ended on a similarly ominous note for someone.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Fish Out of Water</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Trying to figure out how Manoosh will be changed by the Intersect. Got a lot of options out there.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>We have to do something."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>The things I have to do."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>It's time to do my part."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Make an example of him."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Briefing time, in a hole…</p>
      <p>"Thirty-six million?" said Casey, just a little boggle-eyed.</p>
      <p>A little less. One of the first things Chuck had done was pay both Large Mart and the Buy More for the items they'd had to take earlier. He was no thief, not when he didn't have to be, and even then he preferred to think of it as 'borrowing in advance of payment.' "Yup."</p>
      <p>"Not thirty-five, or thirty-seven?"</p>
      <p>"Come on, Casey, they're suffering!" said Carina, more used to hanging around with millionaires, with their peculiar worldview. "You can't get a decent room in Monte Carlo for less than thirty-eight. Go ahead, ask me how I know this."</p>
      <p>Casey didn't ask. "So what are you going to do with it all, Bartowski?"</p>
      <p>"Well, we <em>were</em> going to give it all back," said Sarah, sitting down with a cup of coffee and a donut. They'd already had enough of Morgan's leftovers back at the house, and their base didn't have anything else.</p>
      <p>"To who?" asked Carina. "Bale or Limbaugh?" She pinched off a piece of her friend's junk food.</p>
      <p>Chuck gave her a sour look. Donut-theft was uncool. "That was sort of the problem. Everybody that Bale stole from this time around got their money back already."</p>
      <p>"Only you would call 'getting it done <em>right</em> for a change' a problem, Bartowski," said Casey. "So where'd it all come from? Thirty-six million dollars doesn't just appear out of thin air."</p>
      <p>"It didn't," said Chuck. "Unfortunately, once I found out where it came from I still couldn't give it back."</p>
      <p>"That bad, huh?"</p>
      <p>"Vivian Volkoff. We had no budget for this operation, so I 'borrowed' Manoosh's investment funds from the first person I could think of." And he had Vivian on his mind a lot lately.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, that's bad. How'd <em>you</em> get it?"</p>
      <p>"I didn't simply take the money, that would have led them back to us. Instead I linked the fake Carmichael Industries account to one of Vivian Volkoff's accounts, and I let Bale take the money from there."</p>
      <p>Casey wished he could have seen her face if and more likely when she found out. "I'll bet she loved that."</p>
      <p>Chuck frowned. "She wasn't supposed to know, but I really didn't care then and I don't care now. We got the Norseman, that's good, but I still want the person who used it against my sister. I'm not going to let her forget that."</p>
      <p>"I'm pretty sure she knows now," said Casey. He nodded. "So if I understand this correctly, you, Manoosh, and Decker playing tug-of-money drained it all from her real account into the fake account of a company that's not supposed to exist." That was a problem, all right. She <em>would</em> look for it, and Carmichael Industries' main defense was that no one was looking for it.</p>
      <p>"Can they trace it?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked insulted. "Nobody traces the Piranha!"</p>
      <p>Casey whacked him in the head.</p>
      <p>"Ow!"</p>
      <p>"They don't have to, numb-nuts. When three sets of footprints all go to the same place they only need to follow one."</p>
      <p>Chuck grunted. Carmichael Industries was only supposed to be a name on a hole in the ground, to be filled in as quickly as possible once the mission was over, but now they may as well be shooting off flares. <em>Way to stay out of sight, Bartowski.</em></p>
      <p>Casey recognized a #27 when he heard one. "Roger that." They'd declared war on Vivian, and this would give her a good reason to declare war on them. The General would plotz.</p>
      <p>Sarah nodded. "Then the first thing to do is erase all the footprints, without leaving any more. That sounds like a job–"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, yeah," said Casey quickly. "Don't finish it, you'll just encourage him."</p>
      <p>Sarah smiled at her husband, all the encouragement he needed. "And while he's doing that," she said, after he left, "I'm going to go check on Manoosh. You two stay here and brainstorm ways of handling the fallout in case we're too late."</p>
      <p>Casey watched her go. "'Brainstorm', she says." He looked at Carina. "She should be going to Chuck for all that 'out of the box' stuff, not us." They were both breakers and proud of it.</p>
      <p>Carina vented a small sigh. "Casey, you do know that 'out of the box' and 'outside the box' mean opposite things, right?"</p>
      <p>He looked confused. "They do?"</p>
      <p>"Never mind," said Carina, shaking her head. "For this, out of the box will do. We need to get ready for bear. Vivian isn't the type to let bygones be bygones."</p>
      <p>Casey dragged over his retroactively-paid-for laptop. "Then it's a good thing we've got a war chest now, isn't it?" he said, logging on to some of his favorite shopping sites. When was the next Weap-Con, anyway?</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere, a broad…</p>
      <p>"Well, Mr. Decker?" said Vivian Volkoff as Carmichael drove them back to the airport. "What have you discovered about this so-called Piranha person?"</p>
      <p>"He's supposed to be a ghost, probably male, probably American," said Decker, fuming. "In all other respects, completely untraceable, or so our pet geeks say. Even worse than the Octopus."</p>
      <p>Nothing was untraceable. Nothing could be allowed to be untraceable. "You found nothing in the system you were in last night?"</p>
      <p>"I couldn't even get into that system today. It doesn't appear to be running anymore."</p>
      <p>No lies so far. "It wouldn't be, according to our informant," said Vivian. "He was quite forthcoming, your Mr. Delgado was most helpful in that regard. According to him, numerous men with automatic weapons broke into his vault and engaged in a gun battle, completely destroying his computers."</p>
      <p>"Convenient." And time-consuming. They'd have to get the cores, if they could, without exposing themselves.</p>
      <p>"You think he lied?"</p>
      <p>"To Tommy?"</p>
      <p>That was a 'No'. "You think this Piranha person got away with it, don't you? In spite of everything." There was a lot of everything he got it done in spite of, too.</p>
      <p>"He's one of the few who can, according to his legend," said Decker sourly, conveying his opinion of anecdotal evidence of this sort. "But if it is him, he's changing his style. His reputation is for being a bit of a joker, not malicious at all."</p>
      <p><em>Ah!</em> No one hunted him because no one cared. That just changed. "Forty million is no joke."</p>
      <p>"It might have been, if the FBI hadn't stepped on his punchline."</p>
      <p>Vivian hit the mute button. "Mr. Delgado, your knife please." She unmuted. "Mr. Decker, listen to this." She held out the phone, and Tommy pressed the button on the knife, releasing the blade with a <em>snik!</em> She put the phone to her ear again as Tommy put his toy away regretfully. "That is the sound of me not being amused."</p>
      <p>Decker knew that sound, and he loved it. "What about Agent Charles?"</p>
      <p>Oh. Him. "You have set the hounds upon him, correct?"</p>
      <p>"Every agency I can contact knows he has the Norseman now."</p>
      <p>"Then let them run him to ground. We must deal with the Piranha ourselves. At once."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the bunker…</p>
      <p>The interview could have gone better. Sarah made the call.</p>
      <p>"Still with the headaches?" asked Ellie.</p>
      <p>Sarah kept her voice low as she walked away from Manoosh's room. "Yeah, and tired as well. I was wondering if we should send him back to the lab, let you try the scanner on him again."</p>
      <p>"No, don't do that," said Ellie quickly. "I'll send it for repairs, via Archer's Shipping."</p>
      <p>Sarah grimaced. Frost's favorite shipping company, back when she was trapped in Russia. Nothing sent through them ever arrived at its stated destination, nothing they delivered was ever sent from the declared point of origin. A shipper of last resort, when you absolutely, positively, had to get…something…somewhere. "What's going on, Ellie?"</p>
      <p>"A lot," sighed Ellie. "Diane expected the ruckus would have settled down by now, but something seems to be keeping the DoD awake at night, and Manoosh is the last person we want them to get hold of. Just keep him out in the field, as long as you can."</p>
      <p>"Will do," said Sarah. <em>Somehow.</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A few days later…</p>
      <p>"An invitation to <em>what</em>?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"SAFE," said Casey, turning his laptop around to show the banner. "The Security and Firearms Exposition. Basically it's a trade show for mercenaries. They make demonstrations, pitch to prospective clients, check out the latest non-classified gear, all that sort of stuff. About the only thing they don't do is try to steal each others' employees."</p>
      <p>Sarah seemed skeptical. "That sort of thing is frowned upon?"</p>
      <p>"Nah, they do it every other day of the year, so it's sort of a mini-vacation not to."</p>
      <p>"A room full mercs and the people who would need or want to hire mercs?" asked Carina. "How'd <em>we </em>get an invite?"</p>
      <p>Casey turned his laptop back around. "They may have heard about our stellar success, liberating funds from a certain Ponzi schemer."</p>
      <p>"One mission and we're in?" Now Chuck was the skeptical one. "How respectable is this gig?"</p>
      <p>"Well, one mission, and not a lot of representatives qualified to sit on the cyber-security panel, and <em>mumble-mumble-mumble</em> they made an exception."</p>
      <p>"What was that last part?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"They made an exception?" said Casey, looking all innocent-like.</p>
      <p>"Uh-uh," said Carina, coming around the table to get in his face. "Before that."</p>
      <p>"You mean the part about <em>cough-cough</em> Industries?"</p>
      <p>"What about Carmichael Industries?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>Casey gathered up his papers and closed his laptop. "Well, apparently there are rumors," he said briskly, standing up. "Now I have to go make sure my suit is pressed, I suggest you do the same. Wouldn't do to make a bad impression."</p>
      <p>"But…" Chuck was talking to a closed door. He looked at the two ladies. "Help…"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>At the event...</p>
      <p>"No relation at all," said Chuck, barely inside the door. "In fact, I doubt there could be, given the CIA's penchant for code names and aliases. Just a crazy random happenstance." <em>Casey, I'm going to kill you…</em></p>
      <p>"Well," said the event coordinator, disappointed, "Since this is your first appearance on our program, let me acquaint you with the setup for your presentation." He led them to the stage, and the array of technology that had been deployed. All of it had been specified in their contract, so they, like the other presenters, could create their displays accordingly. Chuck and Manoosh absorbed it like sponges, while Sarah scrutinized the stage area for vulnerabilities.</p>
      <p>"Oh, and one more thing," said the coordinator apologetically. "This hall will be filled with people for whom security is an obsession, and the natural assumption is that our presenters are deadly in their fields, otherwise why be here at all. You all are unknown quantities–" he looked at Manoosh dubiously "–so I would recommend that you move as little as possible. Let your video do the moving."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On the stage...</p>
      <p>"Good evening, my name is Charles Carmichael–no relation," Chuck smiled, as if he hadn't been making the same tired joke all day. <em>Casey, I'm going to kill you…</em> "And I have one question for you." He scanned the room, all four quadrants, just like Devon said.</p>
      <p>"Have you ever had to retrieve stolen assets, with your team literally under the gun and the enemy at the gates?" Enhanced video footage lit up the screen, a dim computer room full of silhouettes, people struggling and guns firing, a timer in the corner running up the milliseconds while a progress bar moved across the bottom. A burst of automatic weapon fire destroyed all the machines, and stopped the clock at a very low number, but the bar was at 100%. "We have." He stepped back, slowly and non-threateningly.</p>
      <p>Manoosh stepped forward, a bit too fast but no one in the room took him to be any kind of a threat. "Have you ever had to scan the bitcode of an indefinite number of files, distill it to a series of possible coordinates, and map the Earth to find a safe house where an agent has gone to ground?" On the screen, meaningless numbers streamed by, resolving into meaningless coordinates. A representation of the Earth spun by, with meaningless dots of red all over it. The important part was the satellite imagery, more realistic than any CGI because it was real, a sequence of images taken as a satellite passed over a safe house in England that no longer existed. "We have." He stepped back too.</p>
      <p>Sarah walked forward from the shadows, stiletto heels tapping as her night-black catsuit moved into the light. She practically screamed 'threat' but no one cared, because, well…"And if we have to, with that information, we <em>will</em> get your man, whether he's in a nightclub–" The ruined interior of the Soco Na Garganta appeared on the monitor "–on a train–" A helicopter shot of a mountain in Japan, littered with wreckage "–or hiding in the jungles of Southeast Asia." No image lit the screen for that one, but from the muttering of the audience, none was needed.</p>
      <p>The screen flashed the Carmichael Industries logo, and Chuck said, "Thank you."</p>
      <p>The lights went down, and the team walked off the stage, clearing the way for the next group of presenters. Chuck stepped down and raised a hand for Sarah to hold as she followed, a gesture both chivalrous and, with those heels, practical. Manoosh made it to the first step before he realized that the monitor control was still in his hand, so he turned around and went back to put it on the table.</p>
      <p>The lights went out.</p>
      <p>Manoosh turned, and saw dots of red all over the audience. Targeting lights! "Chuck!" Dark shapes dropped from the ceiling, men rappelling down all around him! He flashed.</p>
      <p>The men and women in the audience listened to what sounded like a herd of elephants, blind elephants, trying to cross the stage in the dark.</p>
      <p>The lights came up again.</p>
      <p>Manoosh stood stage left, three men in full tactical gear crumpled on the stage around him. Chuck stood center stage, two more men behind him and holding a woman in a half-nelson, grappling for her gun. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted at him.</p>
      <p>He recognized that voice, and let go. "Gertrude?"</p>
      <p>She turned, aimed her gun, and stared at him. At Manoosh. Back at him, and she safed her weapon. "You?"</p>
      <p>"Yes," said Chuck quickly. "Charles Carmichael, Carmichael Industries. Doing, uh, like you said. Testing the, uh, waters, so to speak." He looked at her men, littering the stage, then out at the audience. At Sarah, still waiting by the stairs. He offered Gertrude a weak smile. "Sorry?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, back at the bunker...</p>
      <p>Chuck held his head in his hands. "I didn't know! How was I supposed to know?" he said. "They told us we weren't supposed to move! Why'd they let <em>her</em> move?"</p>
      <p>Casey turned around in his stomping and stomped back. "I don't know, Bartowski, because she's been doing this <em>for twenty years</em>, maybe, and they're used to the kind of shows she puts on?" He turned around and stomped away again. "Didn't you even look at the program?"</p>
      <p>"No, sorry, we were busy pirating video at the last minute."</p>
      <p>"<em>I</em> was fudging the details," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"<em>A</em> mission, we needed," said Casey. "'A' as in 'one'. One mission. Not every mission."</p>
      <p>"We can't do every mission," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>Heh. "They're gonna think you can. You at least look the part, but <em>these</em> are the jokers who beat five-to-two odds."</p>
      <p>"But not six-to-two, didn't anybody notice that?" asked Chuck. He flopped back against the chair. "I told them to use her if they needed manpower."</p>
      <p>"Quantity over quality, Chuckles?"</p>
      <p>"No! Equal quality, just…more of it."</p>
      <p>"Making Gertrude Verbanski look like a charity case." There went their range-date tonight, and tomorrow she'd be going back to Dresden, and God only knew when she'd want to see him again after that. "Bartowski, you couldn't have screwed this up worse if you'd tried."</p>
      <p>"So now it's you who's calling 'getting it done <em>right</em> for a change' a problem?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p><em>Nuts! </em>"Too much is just as bad as too little, Miller, or didn't they teach you that at spy school?"</p>
      <p>Chuck hid his eyes. "Oh, God, Casey, did you have to say that?"</p>
      <p>"What?"</p>
      <p>"Don't worry, Chuck," said Carina, tossing her hair and looking prim. "That kind of banter is beneath me."</p>
      <p>"Just like–" Casey clenched his considerable clenching muscles. "Nope, not gonna say it."</p>
      <p>Carina smirked as he walked away, until her attention was drawn to a whispered, "Wow." Both Chuck and Manoosh were looking at her with something like awe. "Hmm?"</p>
      <p>"Did you just upgrade and downgrade your banter at the same time, in the same sentence?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>She faked a curtsey. "You noticed!"</p>
      <p>Manoosh swallowed heavily. "Marry me."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A few days later...</p>
      <p>"I don't get it, Chuck," said Manoosh, looking at the music rack. "We had them eating out of our hands, we could have the best of the best."</p>
      <p>"We don't want the best of the best, Manoosh," said Chuck, over in the home electronics section. "Too high-profile. We're a small company, I mean a small team, on a training mission. Your training. Leave the high-end clients to the high-end vendors, like Verbanski."</p>
      <p>Manoosh gave the rack a good hard spin. "I just don't understand why you're always caving to that knuckle-dragger."</p>
      <p>Chuck jerked his head up in surprise. "That what?"</p>
      <p>"Hey, Graboid," said Dirtnap. "Potential client has just entered the Buy More."</p>
      <p>Chuck looked at the entrance but he must have just missed him. "No contact."</p>
      <p>"He was told to wait in the movie section."</p>
      <p>Chuck turned his head, and saw one man standing there, looking perfunctorily at the DVDs on sale. "Got him." Then he saw Manoosh, sailing through the air with his fist out, like a living missile. "Oh no."</p>
      <p>With a loud thud that only Chuck seemed to hear, fist met chin, and both Manoosh and their prospective client dropped out of sight. Chuck ran to the other section, ready to perform damage control, but the only people in the aisle were Manoosh and his target.</p>
      <p>Right. This was a Buy More.</p>
      <p>"Manoosh, this is our client," he said to the younger man. "What were you thinking?"</p>
      <p>"Look at what he was checking out," said Manoosh, holding up a DVD case.</p>
      <p>"Oh my god," said Chuck, appalled. "Lady in the Water?"</p>
      <p>"Exactly. I had no choice."</p>
      <p>"Graboid," said Casey suddenly. "Have you made contact?"</p>
      <p>Chuck stuck his head up, looking for exits. "That's an affirmative, Dirtnap," he said, checking to make sure the unconscious man at his feet was still breathing. "Unfortunately."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I'm turning S5 upside-down, hoping some funny falls out. The tumbleweed in the Buy More was the only joke I've seen so far, rewatching the episode.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N</strong> The actual mission in Bearded Bandit was next to irrelevant, so I don't imagine I'll need to change anything in that regard.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>I'll bet she loved that."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>That is the sound of me not being amused."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>We </em>will<em> get your man."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>That's an affirmative."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What's that smell?" asked Casey, holding the door as Chuck and Manoosh carried their prospective client into the room. They knocked him out, they could carry him.</p>
      <p>"Hey, Goliath, we could use a hand here," said Manoosh, struggling to hold both legs at once.</p>
      <p>"What, you want applause now?"</p>
      <p>"I'd settle for an aspirin."</p>
      <p>Sarah caught that as she came into the room from the other side. "Casey, take his legs. Put him in the conference room." Also known as the break room, and the war room, and the only room in the bunker able to hold more than two people who weren't very comfortable with each other. "Manoosh, let's go get you some painkiller."</p>
      <p>"Bring back some smelling salts," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Speaking of smells…?" said Casey again, lifting up the dropped legs.</p>
      <p>"Carina's baking," said Sarah, and then she was gone.</p>
      <p>Chuck and Casey stared at each other. "You know, that sounded like English," said Casey. "One of our new code phrases, maybe?"</p>
      <p>Chuck took a breath to answer, but somehow he had no words to say, so he smiled apologetically and shook his head. They trudged into the break room and dropped the guy into a chair. Carina was standing at the other end of the room, by a little stove that barely fit in the space. She had on an apron and cute little oven mitts, with flour in her hair and batter on her cheek.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked her over. "Maybe it's just as well our client's unconscious."</p>
      <p>She stuck out her tongue at him.</p>
      <p>"Baking?" asked Casey.</p>
      <p>"Trying to," said Carina, unhappily. "I'm thinking maybe I got the big T and the little T mixed up."</p>
      <p>"What are you making?" asked Chuck. He'd done some baking, maybe he could–</p>
      <p>"Oat bran muffins."</p>
      <p>Or maybe not. "No one eats those."</p>
      <p>"I do," muttered Casey.</p>
      <p>"Davis does," said Carina. "I want to surprise him."</p>
      <p>"I think you will," said Chuck, and Carina to glare at him. He raised his arms defensively. "Just that you tried is a surprise."</p>
      <p>"Better go with that," said Casey. He pointed at the short, solid disks lying on the rack. "Those are not muffins."</p>
      <p>"You think I don't know that, Casey," she snapped at him, pointing an oven mitt threateningly. "I'm gonna use them for target practice later, though, so hands off." Just then the little oven bell dinged, and she took out a second tray. "Ha!"</p>
      <p>"Those look better," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, well, the good thing about the little T is that you can always add more." She put the muffins in one of Morgan's leftover leftover boxes, and handed it to Casey. "Here."</p>
      <p>"Aren't you gonna give them to your boy–"</p>
      <p>"Casey!"</p>
      <p>"–friend?"</p>
      <p>"Of course not, these are for practice." She pushed the box against his chest and let go when his hands came up automatically to support it. "I'll give him the good ones."</p>
      <p>"Great, thanks," said Chuck, peering into the box. "<em>Practice</em> bran muffins."</p>
      <p>"Look at this way, Bartowski," said Casey, "Worst comes to worst, we can just hit our client over the head with one when it's time to take him back out."</p>
      <p>"Save a fortune in tranq darts," mused Chuck. "You think we could get him to eat one?"</p>
      <p>Carina sniffed, as she loaded up her cart to take all her stuff out of their conference room. "Keep it up and I won't make anything for <em>your</em> birthday."</p>
      <p>Casey slid the box onto the table. "Promise?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski stalked through the main floor on the way to her office, but none of her employees had the nerve to bother her about anything more trivial than an invasion, if they'd had one scheduled, which they didn't. So no one bothered her.</p>
      <p>The doors didn't slam, either. No great display of self-control on her part, she'd had them designed that way. She was a slammer when she was upset, and she never wanted her employees, or worse yet her clients, to see her upset.</p>
      <p>She ignored all the displays around her, her trophies and treasures, personally taken from her defeated opponents. Losers, all of them.</p>
      <p>She stopped in front of the last case, the smallest display. 'Taken from John Casey, Minsk, 1995', the plaque said. <em>Good to see you, John.</em></p>
      <p>Not that she'd seen him so far this trip, or gotten a chance to talk to him, say anything. She'd hoped to see that special look in his eyes, part fear, part lust, and partly that special 'you took my gun' hint of annoyance. The baby. He'd gotten away with her knife, but she didn't bitch about that the way he went on about this.</p>
      <p><em>I missed you, John. </em>'Cold and harsh' just wasn't the same without someone special to share it with. When she heard his team would be part of this year's SAFE, she left Dresden with her SIC and made herself part of the show. Once they dropped in on his team's display, that hint of annoyance would have–should have–ramped up nicely, boding well for things to come. Except they didn't. Come, that is.</p>
      <p>John wasn't there but that little geek with the remote was, and he spoiled everything. Saw the lights from the stage and called a warning. And what was that all about? Didn't they read the program?</p>
      <p>Not that all the warning in the world should have meant anything in the face of six-to-one odds. She wouldn't even have minded if Charles had taken down a <em>few</em> of her men. Let him get some good exposure, do a favor for a friend. Instead, somehow Agent Charles defeated all her men and almost defeated her, making her look bad in front of all her prospective clients, and through her, the entire company.</p>
      <p>And then what? 'Sorry?' Like he'd made a bad move in a kid's game?</p>
      <p>This was no game. This was her life, and the lives of all the men and women who depended on her to have plans as clear as all these acrylic display cases, leading them into the fire and bringing them out again on the other side.</p>
      <p>She touched the gun, still a weapon being used against her, even out of John's hands. She'd gotten sentimental. Sloppy, and the mere fact that there were no lives on the line this time was no excuse. She'd failed her team's trust, failed to anticipate the vagaries of war and secure her LZ, even for a dummy incursion like that one.</p>
      <p>They should have been ready to tranq the geek. Lesson learned. Point one in her after-action report. Point two, actually. With their asses kicked that bad, point one had to be an apology for her poor leadership. She hated to make those.</p>
      <p>Agent Charles had proven himself a challenge, and her laxness allowed him to become a threat to Verbanskicorp's leading role in the private security market. If he wanted to play in the private sector, she'd play, all right, and John would just have to watch his back.</p>
      <p>She turned her back on the trophy, leaving John behind her, where he would have to remain. Lesson learned.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Where's Chuck?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"We're out of painkiller," said Sarah absently, her attention on the board and her earpiece. "So Chuck and Manoosh are going to the store to get some more after they drop off Mr. Sneijder, while Casey is scouting the safehouse they've got Karl's brother stashed away in."</p>
      <p>The first part, that Chuck had managed to find the safe house already, didn't surprise Carina in the least. The second part, on the other hand…"Casey? Scouting?" She looked at the overheads, but the trees obscured the perimeter, and the rear of the house was inaccessible. The dot that indicated Casey's position was nowhere near the only road in, but it was close to the house, and Casey didn't do 'close' all that well.</p>
      <p>"It's hunting season."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The altercation drew more and more guards to see what the noise was about.</p>
      <p>"Look, imbecile, ducks are wetland animals," said the guard on perimeter duty.</p>
      <p>Casey kept his face blank. "So?"</p>
      <p>"Does this look like a wetland to you? We're in the hills!"</p>
      <p>"Oh." Casey blew on his duck-call, looking around. He'd seen a dozen guards already, no way they'd get in by the front door. "So, no ducks here, then?"</p>
      <p>The guard pointed down the hill. "That way."</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Casey again, and he smiled at the guard. "Thanks."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah shrugged. "It's not like he could drag around a moose."</p>
      <p>"Only Casey," said Carina, shaking her head.</p>
      <p>"He's just bumbling around, it's not like they're going to take him prisoner," said Sarah. "That would bring exactly the attention they want to avoid."</p>
      <p>"Still wouldn't mind seeing Casey act like an idiot," said Carina. "On purpose, that is." She pointed back the way she came. "Uh, we just got a package, lots of electronics."</p>
      <p>Sarah rewound the conversation in her head. Oh. "That's not for Chuck, that's for Manoosh. Ellie sent the scanner so we wouldn't have to bring him into the lab. Go set it up, would you? Put the sensors above and below his berth. Ellie doesn't want him to know."</p>
      <p>"I don't want me to know, either," said Carina. "Why me?"</p>
      <p>"Why not you?" asked Sarah. "You're just as qualified to insert tab A into slot B as Chuck is."</p>
      <p>That sounded like the sort of thing she used to say. "Eww!"</p>
      <p>"'Eww' what?"</p>
      <p>"In Manoosh's bedroom?"</p>
      <p><em>Eww.</em> "Could be worse."</p>
      <p>"How?"</p>
      <p>"Manoosh could be there."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Sorry about the whole 'Lady in the Water' thing, Chuck," said Manoosh, as they stocked up on junk food, in addition to the painkiller. "Really, if it had been any other movie–"</p>
      <p>"I understand, Manoosh," said Chuck, selecting a couple of boxes of Hot Pockets for Casey. "I've seen it too."</p>
      <p>"You know, like, um, Spiderman!" Manoosh held up his hands, middle fingers down in the classic pose. "Peter Parker, high school kid, amazing superpowers–"</p>
      <p>Chuck pushed his hands down before the cashier saw them in the mirror. "That he had to learn how to use. Preferably without getting Uncle Ben or any other member of his immediate team-slash-family killed."</p>
      <p>"No one's gonna get killed," said Manoosh dismissively. "That's the great thing about the Intersect, it's all plug and play." He started making all sorts of fighting gestures.</p>
      <p>Chuck pulled him behind an end-cap. "Watch what you're doing, Manoosh," he said, as the bell on the front door chimed. "That lady at the desk can see us."</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked at the mirror. "Uh, no, Chuck, I don't think she can." He pointed.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked in the mirror, saw a man with a shotgun pointing it at the cashier. He turned back. "Manoosh…"</p>
      <p>The young nerd had his shirt pulled up over his nose. "Wish me luck," he said and he whipped around the corner into the main aisle. Chuck peeked out, and saw Manoosh running down the aisle, accelerating his smaller mass into a missile of destruction. Reflexively, Chuck turned and took a different aisle to the same goal.</p>
      <p>If the robber noticed Manoosh he probably dismissed him as a threat as readily as everyone else did, until Manoosh launched himself into the air. Then the man tried to bring his gun around, but it was far too late. Manoosh's feet caught him under the arm, knocking the man to the ground, his head making an audible <em>thump!</em> Manoosh waited, but the guy didn't get up again, and he flourished his hands with a grin. "Spiderman!" He turned to check the cashier, standing there looking boggle-eyed. "Are you okay?"</p>
      <p>"<em>Malocchia! Malocchia!</em>" shouted the woman behind the counter, looking at his hands. She dropped down, and popped up again with a box of salt in her hand, and she threw some in Manoosh's face.</p>
      <p>"Hey!" he said, holding up his hands, but it was too late. He backed away, blinking a lot, as she threw more salt at him.</p>
      <p>The robber blinked his eyes, and saw his attacker backing away, distracted. He reached for his gun and stood, drawing a bead on the little guy who knocked him down.</p>
      <p>Chuck reached out as the criminal fired, jerking the barrel up even as Manoosh's feet slipped on the grains of salt and he went down. The shot took out a store display and made a mess, but nothing more fatal than that. Chuck knocked the gunman out as Manoosh got back to his feet.</p>
      <p>"Yeah!" said Manoosh, throwing his arms in the air. "That's what I'm talking about! You and me, a pair of real superheroes. Spiderman, and, and, the <em>other</em> Spiderman!"</p>
      <p>Chuck polished his fingerprints off the gun. "Hey, I'm the original, you're the clone. Remember that, 'Ben'."</p>
      <p>"It's 'Joe', isn't it?" asked Manoosh, as lights started flashing outside. The police, responding to the alarm.</p>
      <p>"Joe was the second Scarlet Spider," said Chuck, putting the gun on the desk. He pointed to the back of the store, and the lady at the counter watched as they ran off, Chuck's voice trailing away. "And why would you want to be him, anyway, he was a bad guy. Once we get back to base you really have to brush up on your Spiderman history…"</p>
      <p>She threw another handful of salt, just in case.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah threw a blown-up still from the store's security footage onto the table in front of them. The image of Manoosh was kind of blurry, and his hands were covering his face. "Explain."</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked down at the paper. "What's to explain?" he asked. "She was a damsel in distress, I was a hero in disguise."</p>
      <p>"You hooked your shirt over your nose," said Casey. "And it looks like she's the one attacking you."</p>
      <p>"It was just a misunderstanding! What was I supposed to do, let that thug rob the store?"</p>
      <p>"Yes!" said Casey. "The last thing any of us need, especially you, is for Carmichael Industries to appear on anyone's radar any more than it already has. This could have been a ploy meant to pull us out into the open."</p>
      <p>"According to Ellie," added Sarah, "Something is keeping the search for us alive. Until we get the all-clear from the General, any and all 'events' that happen to take place in your vicinity have to be taken with a grain of salt."</p>
      <p>Manoosh brushed at his shirt. "Fine. There," he said, as a few grains of salt fell onto the table.</p>
      <p>Casey pushed himself away from the table. "Nuts!"</p>
      <p>Carina went to a closet and brought back a dustpan. "Don't worry, guys. Plenty of opportunities for superheroing where we're going," she said. "As soon as you clean up your last mess."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"But why can't we make the climb?" asked Manoosh. The cliff face was vertical, but not shear, and he and Chuck should have been able to scramble to the top in seconds.</p>
      <p>"No damsels to rescue, Galahad," said Casey. "The rest of us don't have the Intersect, so we have to do it the hard way, unless you plan to be there for every little thing we need to have done, for the rest of our lives."</p>
      <p><em>Every</em> little thing? "I…don't think so," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p><em>Heh. </em>"Neither did I," said Casey, looping the rope around his shoulders. "So stand back and stop trying to weaken us to death." As the largest person on the team, he was the natural counterweight for the climber, in this case Sarah. Carina was lighter, but she had a more important job to do, and she raised her crossbow to do it. The quarrels weren't exactly standard issue, but they'd anchor in the rock and support Sarah's weight, and most important of all they'd do it silently.</p>
      <p>Chuck and Manoosh stood back as Sarah began her ascent, enthralled by the athletic blonde. "Dude, you are the luckiest guy on the planet," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"I know," murmured Chuck.</p>
      <p>"I mean, after all the kidnaps and torture, you get to come home to <em>that</em>."</p>
      <p>"Yeah," said Chuck, deadpan, "I'm a lucky guy, all right."</p>
      <p>"You guys know I can hear you, right?" said Sarah.</p>
      <p>She was most of the way up when Carina's crossbow made a different sound as she fired the next bolt into the stone. "Dammit," she muttered, bending to get a new, thicker string.</p>
      <p>Sarah couldn't hear it but Chuck did, not that it made any difference. He couldn't yell up the cliff face to her without giving their position away, and she was already reaching for–</p>
      <p>"Bartowski, don't!" said Casey.</p>
      <p>The shaft pulled out of the stone, leaving her dangling by one hand as Casey hauled back to take her weight. Even with him holding her, if she lost her grip, the sudden acceleration down could very easily pull all of the other bolts out as she fell.</p>
      <p>Manoosh took off, scrambling up the cliff face with ease. By the time Carina had a new string on her bow, he was near to Sarah, and he grabbed her hand, so she wouldn't swing. Her feet found toeholds.</p>
      <p>Carina fired, and the bolt sank into the stone above their joined hands. Manoosh pulled Sarah's hand up so she could grab the shaft. "You got it?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah," said Sarah breathlessly. "Thanks." She found her rope and looped it through the carabiner.</p>
      <p>"My–my–" Manoosh blinked. "Come on, what are we waiting for?" He resumed his climb, not trying to outdistance her, just in case.</p>
      <p>Sarah watched him go, started climbing after him. "Nothing."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>By the time Sarah reached the top of the cliff Manoosh was fidgeting. BY the time she tied off the rope so the others could climb, he was gone. Fortunately Chuck didn't need the rope any more than Manoosh did. "You need to find him, Chuck," Sarah said urgently. "Something's wrong, I know it is."</p>
      <p>"But–?"</p>
      <p>"Get moving, Bartowski," said Casey as he climbed. "You find you spider…clone…war…guy. Let the professionals do the real work."</p>
      <p>Chuck backed away from the multi-layered badness of that order. "Going now." He ran up the path, listening for any sign of Manoosh being Manoosh, until he practically tripped over an unconscious guard. Further down the path, he spotted a gun, and a hand not reaching for it. He followed the trail of guards to the noise, and the noise into the house.</p>
      <p>"–punch you in the head, kick you in the nuts–"</p>
      <p>Around the corner and there was Manoosh by another door, with several unconscious guards on the floor around him and another ready to join them.</p>
      <p>Suddenly an alarm rang, not that any of them needed to hear it. Manoosh must have flashed, his eyes rolling white, but the last guard took advantage and knocked him out. Chuck returned the favor, and he was alone. No one else seemed to be coming to answer the alarm.</p>
      <p>He lifted his watch to his lips. "Sarah?"</p>
      <p>"Chuck!" she called, from the other side of the door, and he forced it open. "It's a setup! Karl lied. He just wanted to get his brother back before he could testify. This is a WitSec safe house."</p>
      <p>Chuck looked at the pile of guards. "Oh." Manoosh's crumpled form. "Um…" At Karl's brother, his wounded hand wrapped in bandages, his eyes angry and accusing. "Sorry?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>The Malocchia is better known as the Evil Eye, and salt is one of many counters. It is represented by a hand gesture very similar to the way Spiderman held his hands when shooting his webs. I wonder if the guys at Marvel knew that when they came up with it.</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Filling in the gaps around the stuff they did in canon. It's so easy to just cut away in a TV show for dramatic effect, but even then you have to give some thought to how thet stuff you don't show could have happened, otherwise you get people like me coming and saying that makes no sense. Most of what I did with S4 was fixing problems like that. Here I have no problems with what they showed, I just don't see a lot of value in redoing it, so I'm showing something else.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>We're out of painkiller."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>No one's gonna get killed."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I was a hero in disguise."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Something's wrong."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh awoke, feeling like elephants, blind ones, were tripping all over themselves inside his skull. His body ached all over, too, like he'd been in a fight, which he could remember a lot of, so that was all right. Lots of guards, lots of flashes. So many flashes, like he couldn't stop himself. No wonder his head hurt.</p>
      <p>That last guy was on the ropes, though, so how did he get knocked out?</p>
      <p>"Hello," he said, just in case someone might be nearby. The way his voice sounded gave him the idea that he was in a small room, and the surface he was lying on felt too familiar, so he opened his eyes a bit.</p>
      <p>His bunk in the bunker, with the lights out, thank God for that. Without moving his head or body more than he had to, he reached to the side and found a glass of water in the usual place. He lowered his hand and found the pills Sarah had left for him. There just weren't any words good enough for her, not even 'babe', which was the most stellar compliment he knew. He'd never met any women who were so beyond 'babe' before, and here they he'd found a bunch all in one place.</p>
      <p>Chuck was so lucky.</p>
      <p>Manoosh sat up so he could take the pills. The Intersect was good but it didn't have any techniques for drinking sideways, not that he wanted to try flashing on them if it did.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah was just settling down at the table with a cup of coffee and a piece of one of Carina's bran muffins when her phone went off. "What's up, Ellie?"</p>
      <p>"Manoosh is awake," said Doctor, nowhere near them but keeping her brother's team under her watchful gaze all the same. Manoosh had programmed the scanner's alerts himself.</p>
      <p>Sarah considered changing Ellie's call sign from Doctor to Mama Bear. "How does he look?" Electronically, that is. Doctor couldn't see him any other way.</p>
      <p>"Not good," said Ellie. "Go get me a visual, please." Sarah had refused to put monitors in Manoosh's room, wanting him to feel like a team member and not an outpatient, so the job of tracking her asset's physical state had fallen to her.</p>
      <p>Fortunately Manoosh's berth wasn't all that far from the main room, nothing was in a base that small. He responded when she knocked and winced when she opened the door. She left the lights off and checked him out in the light from the hall. "How are you feeling?"</p>
      <p>"Headache," he said unnecessarily. She'd already noticed the pills were gone and she doubted that he put them back in the bottle. "Sore."</p>
      <p>"Can you stand?"</p>
      <p>He jumped to his feet. "Do we have another mission?"</p>
      <p>Sarah put her hands on his shoulders, gently, in case he had some reflexive reaction to her touch. He hadn't shown any signs yet but he hadn't done as much flashing in one day before. "No, I just wanted to see if you could stand." She pulled him around slightly. "Look at me."</p>
      <p>He was looking into her eyes as she looked at his, so he noticed her frown. "Something wrong?"</p>
      <p>Sarah had her spy face on. "A little bloodshot," she replied in mild understatement. "You mind if I take a few pictures for Ellie?" She asked him every so often, whether she needed to or not, in case some day she might need to.</p>
      <p>"Go ahead," he said, as he always did.</p>
      <p>"Thanks," she said, as usual, and proceeded to take some pictures, perhaps more than she often did, but a bit less than she sometimes did. He did climb a cliff barehanded, and barefooted, after all. When she was done, she said, "If you want to come out, we've got some stale donuts, some specially aged leftover leftovers from Morgan's restaurant, or some of Carina's delicious homemade bran muffins."</p>
      <p>He considered his options. "You mind if I just stay here for a while instead?"</p>
      <p>"Not at all," she said, relieved he suggested it himself. "We have a meeting with the client, later, if you're feeling up to it."</p>
      <p>He sat back down on his bunk. "You mean the guy I hit?" Not that he was trying to hit him, he was going after the DVD, but he didn't expect the guy to move, either. Come on, even Chuck made mistakes.</p>
      <p>"He doesn't hold it against you, if that's what you're worried about," said Sarah. "And anyway it'll be an online meeting. He's got some explaining to do."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh surfaced again to the sound of voices in the other room. The conference call must still be going on, he hadn't managed to sleep through it after all. Oh, well. Time to face the music. He got up and dressed himself for a meeting, then walked to the door to the big room.</p>
      <p>"–supposed to extract Wesley and turn him over," said the man on the screen as Manoosh walked in, his face hard and unfriendly.</p>
      <p>"Our clients are supposed to not lie to <em>us</em>," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"Carina, ix-nay on the ark-snay," said Chuck under his breath.</p>
      <p>"We're not kidnappers," said Sarah over both of them, "Nor are we legally constituted authorities. Once we were…misled into disabling Mr. Sneijder's security team, we had no way to force him to go anywhere."</p>
      <p>"You took him with <em>you</em>."</p>
      <p>Sarah shook her head, curls bouncing. "He <em>chose</em> to come with us when we explained the situation, after he was exposed–"</p>
      <p>"By a much smaller force, I might add," said Casey smugly.</p>
      <p>"Not helping," Chuck muttered, then he raised his voice. "The point is he doesn't want to get turned over to the man who cut his finger off, for which I at least do not blame him."</p>
      <p>"I don't care what his choice is now," said the man on the screen. "I care about his choice to testify in the first place. You will turn him over to me or I will send my men into whatever hole you've found and dig you all out, and I promise you, you won't enjoy that."</p>
      <p>"Do your worst," said Casey, stabbing a finger down on the call button, breaking the connection.</p>
      <p>"Casey…!" Chuck gestured at the blank screen.</p>
      <p>Casey rotated his chair, turning his back on the screen and everyone who wasn't on it. "Zip it, Bartowski, it's not like we haven't heard it all before."</p>
      <p>"Who the hell was <em>that</em> guy?" asked Manoosh.</p>
      <p>Chuck spun in his chair, his face lighting up. "Hey, Manoosh, how you feeling, buddy?" He held up his fist.</p>
      <p>Manoosh bumped fists as Sarah said, "That was Wesley Sneijder's contact in Witness Protection. Those were his men you took out."</p>
      <p>"All by yourself, I might add," said Chuck, giving Manoosh's fist bump an extra finger-flutter for awesomeness.</p>
      <p>"Not helping," Casey muttered.</p>
      <p>"What about the meeting with his brother, the client?"</p>
      <p>"We had that already," said Carina, buttering her own muffin. "Strangely enough, it wasn't all that different."</p>
      <p>"That might work out for us, though," said Chuck. "If they both get here at the same time, Dick Tracy up there can arrest Karl and we're all home free."</p>
      <p>"Or," said Sarah, turning the idea into something more pro-active, "We could arrange a handoff with Karl and let the marshals catch them in the act."</p>
      <p>Manoosh nodded. "Good plan. Can we make it happen?" He looked around. "Where's Wesley, anyway?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Somewhere out and about in DC…</p>
      <p>"How does your hand feel?"</p>
      <p>Wesley Sneijder looked at his hand, he certainly couldn't feel it. "Still numb." The doctor she'd taken him to see had anesthetized the whole thing before checking it out, repairing the stitches, whatever he'd had to do. Even the bandaging looked better.</p>
      <p>The whole time, Wesley had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. "Do I know you?"</p>
      <p>"I doubt it, dude," said the doctor. "But you're wearing my pants."</p>
      <p>Wesley looked down. "Your pants?"</p>
      <p>"Abercrombie &amp; Fitch Cargo Sport. I used to model them. Paid my tuition, back in college." He smiled brightly. "Those were the days." The rest of the visit passed in a blur of modeling talk, most of which Wesley tuned out.</p>
      <p>Now, he flexed his remaining fingers, nothing seemed to be pulling. "Okay, I guess. Where are we going?"</p>
      <p>"A secure place where your brother will never find us, until we get the all clear. After that, wherever you want to go, I guess." He was her first time on a protective detail, and under the circumstances, she couldn't really call anyone and ask.</p>
      <p>"You're not gonna turn me over to the FBI?" They'd introduced her as an agent.</p>
      <p>"Do you want me to?"</p>
      <p>"No." He'd probably have to go back to Witness Protection, but with Karl locked up it should be a lot safer.</p>
      <p>"How about, do you want to go to the best restaurant in the city for dinner? You like crab cakes? My boyfriend makes stellar crab cakes."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the hole…</p>
      <p>"Need I remind you," said Casey, "That the marshals catching <em>them</em> in the act is also the marshals catching <em>us</em> in the act–"</p>
      <p>"And there are some acts even I don't want to get caught in," said Carina, licking the butter from her fingers. "Especially not with Casey." She winked at him. "No offense."</p>
      <p>Casey shuddered, making a distressed moan that might have been a grunt in other circumstances. "Can we just go after Karl ourselves, please?"</p>
      <p>"With what army, Casey?" asked Chuck. "It's not like we can just call General Beckman whenever we want."</p>
      <p>"Who says we even need an army, Bartowski?" asked Casey. "So far all we've seen is tall, dark, and finger-happy. Maybe he's just talking a good game."</p>
      <p>"Given his connections, I prefer to err on the side of caution."</p>
      <p>Casey leaned forward, his knuckles on the table as he loomed. "Well <em>I</em> prefer to err on the side of good intel."</p>
      <p><em>Knuckles. </em>"So let's get some," said Manoosh. "Chuck and I can check his place out without him ever knowing we were there."</p>
      <p>Everybody looked at everybody else, trying not to make it look like it was Sarah they were taking their cues from. "Are you sure that's such a good idea, Manoosh?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"You did do a lot of flashing yesterday," added Carina.</p>
      <p>"He's vertical and he's volunteering, isn't he?" snapped Casey, and Sarah fixed him with a fierce glare. "But, uh, I guess maybe we could check with Doctor before we risk it."</p>
      <p>"What risk?" asked Manoosh. He waved back and forth between himself and Chuck. "You've got a simple recon job and two Intersects to do it. It's a piece of cake."</p>
      <p>Casey made a face. "The Intersect is a lot better at getting people into trouble than it is at getting them out of it. Two Intersects at the same time…?" He shuddered again.</p>
      <p>"On the other hand, said Chuck, "Someone did just use the word cake, and that reminds me that none of us have had dinner yet. You can call Ellie if you think you have to, while we satisfy Manoosh's craving for adventure with a food run. I don't know about you, but I can't storm anyone's castle on an empty stomach."</p>
      <p>Manoosh had eaten even less. "Well, I suppose I could go for a nice MLT."</p>
      <p>"MLT?" asked Casey. "What's that?"</p>
      <p>"A mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich," explained Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe," said Manoosh, his hand gestures indicating the leanness and the ripeness. "They're so perky,"</p>
      <p>Chuck pointed at his fellow nerd. "He loves that."</p>
      <p>He wasn't alone. "That does sound good," said Casey. "Get me one while you're at it."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, in the car...</p>
      <p>"Mutton?" asked Manoosh, as he drove to the store, with Chuck for company. "In DC?"</p>
      <p>Chuck paused in his typing. "I'm not sure if we just pulled one over on him, or if he just pulled one over on us."</p>
      <p>"I'm betting on us," said Manoosh, meaning 'us the puller overers' and not 'us the pulled over ons'. "What are you writing?"</p>
      <p>"First draft of a report for that WitSec guy, you know they're gonna want to know how we got their guy out." Not like they needed another pissed-off government agency chasing after them, either.</p>
      <p>"So you're just gonna cave, and tell them?"</p>
      <p>"It's not like they're the enemy, Manoosh, and if it keeps the next witness safe, why not?" said Chuck with a frown. "And besides, they'd just escalate it to Beckman, so why force it?" He sort of enjoyed not having her around.</p>
      <p>Manoosh drove on in silence for a bit. "Chuck?" he said eventually.</p>
      <p>"Yeah?"</p>
      <p>"How did we get Wesley out?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Flashback, to the house on the cliff, that afternoon…</p>
      <p>Chuck put his phone away. "That was Karl," he told the team. "He was monitoring the site, he knows his brother is exposed and he's on his way to collect him."</p>
      <p>"Then I'm a dead man," said Wesley.</p>
      <p>"No," said Sarah. "You're not. Your brother lied to us."</p>
      <p>"Bad guys do that," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"Doesn't make it smart," said Casey. "Actually, makes it pretty not-smart."</p>
      <p>"He said you were a prisoner here," said Sarah. "We promised him that we would protect you and that's what we're going to do."</p>
      <p>Chuck nodded at their new protectee. "She's very literal-minded."</p>
      <p>"See?" said Casey. "You gotta be careful what you ask for, especially when it's us you're asking."</p>
      <p>"Okay. How?" asked Wesley. "There's only one way out of this place."</p>
      <p>"Obviously not," said Casey. "Getting <em>you</em> out will be easy, it's Sleeping Beauty here I'm worried about." He pointed at Manoosh, then realized everyone else was staring at him. "What?"</p>
      <p>"Everybody, on three," said Carina. "One, two, three…"</p>
      <p>"We won't tell him you said so," Chuck, Sarah, and Carina said in unison.</p>
      <p>Casey sneered. Or smiled. Hard to tell.</p>
      <p>Chuck picked up Manoosh, carrying him easily. "Back to the cliff."</p>
      <p>One trek back to the cliff later…</p>
      <p>"They said no one could climb this," said Wesley, looking at the rope down the cliff face, as Carina started her descent.</p>
      <p>"Normally they'd be right," said Chuck, putting a climbing belt on his unconscious partner. "Just climbing with standard techniques would take too long, and using a gun to speed up the process would make too much noise."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, that's what they said."</p>
      <p>"You ever heard of a crossbow?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"As good as a gun at close range," said Casey, as Sarah went over the edge. "And completely silent."</p>
      <p>"What?" said Wesley, who apparently had not heard of crossbows.</p>
      <p>"I know, right," said Chuck. "Sounds like the Middle Ages, but someone on the team happens to be an archer, so–" He broke off and went to the cliff edge. "Hey, Red!" he called down.</p>
      <p>"What?"</p>
      <p>"Stampede or Archer?"</p>
      <p>A moment of silence, then "Archer" came back up over the cliff.</p>
      <p>Casey rolled his eyes. "Glad we got that important business out of the way." He approached Wesley with a rope, and started tying it around his waist. "You're injured. We go together."</p>
      <p>"What about them?" said Wesley. "That guy's unconscious."</p>
      <p>"Don't worry about them, worry about you." Casey looked down the cliff. "Okay, one down. You're next."</p>
      <p>Chuck waited until they were all down before he untied the rope from the boulder, turning it into a rope harness around himself. He looked down. Sarah, Carina, and Wesley were already gone, to the relative safety of their vehicle, while Casey held the rope at the bottom, ready to take up slack. He went back and lifted up Manoosh, clipping the climbing belt to his rope harness. Then he went back to the cliff.</p>
      <p>"Look out below," he called.</p>
      <p>Then he jumped.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"You jumped?" asked Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Mm-hmm," said Chuck, typing again.</p>
      <p>"And then you flashed on time-travel techniques so we could go back a few years and heal up?"</p>
      <p>Chuck got a bit of a laugh from that. "We didn't fall, at least not directly. The <em>other</em> good thing about the crossbow is that it's not quite as powerful as a rifle, so the bolts weren't stuck in the cliff so hard. As we fell they popped out, leaving nothing in the cliff to show how we climbed it."</p>
      <p>"Wish I'd been there," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"You were there," said Chuck. "Good thing, too, otherwise I might have had to crawl down the wall, which would have been great for taking the rope with us but would have left the pitons where they were, and you know me, I'm not a fan of sub-optimal outcomes."</p>
      <p><em>Wall-crawling. </em>"Yeah, Chuck," said Manoosh thoughtfully. "I know you. You have the power to do something right, you do it right."</p>
      <p>"Mm-hmm," said Chuck absently, typing some more. "I try. You just gotta learn to think it through, is all."</p>
      <p>"Yeah." Manoosh drove on, into the dark. Thinking.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Well, Mr. Decker," said Vivian archly. "Any luck finding this Piranha person?" Emphasis on the word 'luck'.</p>
      <p>"I haven't been trying to find the Piranha," said Decker.</p>
      <p>"You haven't? Hmm, perhaps I had best shift my resources behind an agency that will."</p>
      <p>"Trying to find someone of his skill when he doesn't want to be found would just be a waste of that money. I have a plan. I'm going to offer him the one thing he wants more than anything else, the one thing he can't get with all his hacking skills."</p>
      <p>"Which is?"</p>
      <p>"A challenge."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Hey, Chuck, we're here."</p>
      <p>Chuck closed his laptop, and hopped out of the car. On one side of the street was a parking lot, with an office building right across from it. Not a restaurant or a diner in sight. "Um, Manoosh," he asked, "Where is here?"</p>
      <p>"That's Karl Sneijder's headquarters, Chuck," said Manoosh, pointing at the office building.</p>
      <p>And this was Chuck's car, loaded with tranq guns and not much else. "You know this how?"</p>
      <p>"He used his return address when he mailed back the Carmichael Industries comment card."</p>
      <p>"Well, you know, Manoosh, that sort of screams 'trap' to me right there…"</p>
      <p>"I know, doesn't it?" Manoosh clicked the fob and popped the trunk. "And who better to spring that trap than two Intersects?"</p>
      <p>"Um, two Intersects and their entire support team?"</p>
      <p>"Chuck, Chuck," said Manoosh patronizingly, "Face it. They're crossbows, we're lasers." He handed Chuck one of his own guns.</p>
      <p>Chuck stared at it, hanging in the air before him. "Sometimes crossbows are the right answer, or at least a good enough answer. You don't always need lasers, eight o'clock, day one."</p>
      <p>Manoosh shrugged. "Maybe for going up a wall, but for going down one, you need Spiderman. Like you said, great power. We have a responsibility to prevent those sorts of questions from being asked."</p>
      <p>Chuck took the gun simply to put it out of sight under his coat. "No, we don't."</p>
      <p>"Casey's a dinosaur," said Manoosh, "And I don't really know what Carina is–"</p>
      <p>"Join the club."</p>
      <p>"Sarah's pregnant, Chuck," said Manoosh. "Do you really think she should be in on this?"</p>
      <p>For a second, one precious second, Chuck stood paralyzed, his primordial urge to protect the mother of his unborn child running up against a very clear notion of the ass-kicking she would give him once she finished slaughtering their enemies, if he tried any such thing. "Um…"</p>
      <p>"It's our duty, Chuck," said Manoosh, grabbing another gun for himself. "You know it, and I know it. For the team!" He slammed the trunk and took off across the street, taking the car keys with him.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, the team," said Chuck. He pressed the emergency alarm on his watch before he followed.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Not as flamingly obvious as "Indiana who?" but it's not coming totally out of left field. Manoosh's problems with the Intersect will be more like canon S3, problems Chuck never had in this story.</p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Chuck is really quite unfair to Morgan in Bearded Bandit. In S4's opening episode Morgan followed Chuck into Volkoff's factory, and only applauded Chuck taking out a horde of gunmen at once. I'm not surprised Morgan felt a little betrayed. One could even make the argument that if Chuck hadn't been constantly stopping Morgan they might have won.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>Do we have another mission?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>There are some acts even I don't want to get caught in."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You gotta be careful what you ask for."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>For the team!"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Ellie Bartowski-Woodcombe was in her office reviewing the latest scans when the call came in. Her monitor lit up in shades of gray, but she'd know those shifting tones anywhere. "Hi, Dad, glad you're here." And she was, strangely enough.</p>
      <p>After the whole tracker debacle, Stephen stayed on his best behavior, taking baby steps back into her good graces. "What can I do for you, Eleanor?"</p>
      <p>"I can really use your help interpreting these scans." Ellie moved a number of windows onto the monitor.</p>
      <p>"What's happened?" said Orion, his voice tense.</p>
      <p>"Nothing, Dad, or maybe something, I don't know," said Ellie. She expanded a window, the twisting ring becoming a tangled skein of someone's thoughts. "I have no baseline."</p>
      <p>"What do you mean, no baseline?" asked Stephen, pulling up Manoosh's algorithm for regularizing the waves. "You've been scanning Chuck for months."</p>
      <p>Ellie shook her head. "These aren't Chuck's. They're scans of Manoosh."</p>
      <p>Orion didn't bother with all the questions in the middle. "What did he upload?" Couldn't be the whole Intersect, Ellie would know what arrangements to make in that case.</p>
      <p>"Just the skills."</p>
      <p>"How many?"</p>
      <p>"All of them."</p>
      <p>Stephen felt a stab of dismay. Hartley had experimented on himself too. "He's your expert–"</p>
      <p>"He doesn't think globally, Dad. He thinks of these scans as art." Which had been a very good thing, once, He'd saved Chuck's life and mind when he noticed what the rest of them couldn't. "Any one skill, yes, he's the expert, but not all of them, with the necessary data, over this long a time."</p>
      <p>Orion sighed. "I'll do my best, sweetheart, but the skills weren't my doing."</p>
      <p>"It's not the skills but the framework I'm worried about, and that is your doing," said Ellie, "And mine, and I can't help but feel that there's something very wrong with–"</p>
      <p>Suddenly her watch started beeping.</p>
      <p>"What's that?" asked her father.</p>
      <p>"Chuck's emergency alert. Dad, I have to go."</p>
      <p>"No you don't." The monitor split into two panels, one of which was full of frenzied activity, and the other showed the inside of Carmichael Industries' secret base. Ellie felt a stab of déjà vu, but this time when the upset blonde walked by she wasn't carrying a rocket launcher, so that was something. "Sarah, what's happening?"</p>
      <p>On the screen, Sarah lifted her head and scanned the room. "Ellie? Where are you?"</p>
      <p>"I'm on your left," said Ellie, and Sarah turned her head, looking vague. After a moment her gaze sharpened and Ellie knew she'd spotted the camera. "What's wrong with Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"We don't know," said Sarah. "He's only supposed to be on a food run with Manoosh. He was getting antsy."</p>
      <p>"Who, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"No, Manoosh. He's been getting pushier about doing the missions, lately. At first I thought it was just him wanting to play with his new toys, but now I'm not so sure."</p>
      <p>Ellie glanced at the gray box. "You think something could be wrong with Manoosh?"</p>
      <p>"Long term, yes." Then Sarah shook her head. "But Chuck would have called."</p>
      <p><em>He did. </em>"Unless he can't," said Ellie. "Do you know where they are?"</p>
      <p>"Yep," said Casey, behind Sarah. "Coordinates are–"</p>
      <p>"Plotted on screen one," said Orion.</p>
      <p>Casey grumbled a bit, but eventually said, "Thanks." The screen resolved into a map of the city, with two dots on it.</p>
      <p>"Where is that?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"What are those two dots?" asked Casey. Only Chuck had a tracker–three of them–and they would have registered as one.</p>
      <p>"Well, for the first part…" said Stephen, and the image shifted, got smaller, as the map expanded to include their own location, a third dot, but the other two appeared to have merged into one.</p>
      <p>"Why so far?" said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"That's no deli," said Carina, suddenly. "That's location one. Orion, can you pull in?"</p>
      <p>"<em>What's</em> location one?" asked Casey, as the mapped swelled again, the merged dots separating. One seemed to be moving, according to the coordinates, while the other was stable, just outside the outer wall.</p>
      <p>"Remember when Karl left," asked Carina, "We gave him one of my experiments as a combination 'thank you' and 'going-away' present, you know, 'thank you for going away'? Well, Chuck had me load it up with tracking nanos, so we could track it even if he ate it." Things got real quiet all of a sudden. "He might have!" She pointed to the unmoving dot. "Looks like he threw it away instead, the bastard, but he must have gone back to his office first."</p>
      <p>"Wait a minute," said Casey. "Are you telling me that we really are getting a signal off a bran muffin?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Lock-picking. Recon. Ninjitsu. And a good bit of hide-and-seek where, Chuck had to admit, the smaller guy had a real advantage. "Manoosh," he whispered, head down and gun high, "What do you think you're doing?"</p>
      <p>"What do mean, 'what am I doing'?" Manoosh whispered back. "I'm doing what you would do, going after the bad guy, protecting the team." He slipped around the corner.</p>
      <p>Chuck followed, joining Manoosh behind a low rail. "Getting yourself killed is not helping the team."</p>
      <p>"No one's gonna get killed," said Manoosh dismissively, scanning the room. "There's the office. I'll watch your back, you hack in and get the evidence we need to put him away, so Wesley will be safe."</p>
      <p>Chuck scanned the room, too. A big one, with lots of entrances. "I don't know, Manoosh, a building this big has to have a lot of guards."</p>
      <p>"How many guys did you beat in Volkoff's factory that time?"</p>
      <p>"A lot," said Chuck, "But I had Carina with me."</p>
      <p>"Well now you've got me, and I think the Intersect might make me at least as good as Carina," said Manoosh, a little put out. "Especially against the kind of goons this guy is likely to have."</p>
      <p>"You're assuming," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Assuming what, that this guy's goons aren't gonna be trained up to Volkoff standards? Seems like a pretty safe bet to me."</p>
      <p>A single goon wandered into the room, on his usual rounds. His weapon wasn't ready as his dle gaze swept the room, seeing only what he expected to see, completely missing the two intruders.</p>
      <p>Manoosh gestured. <em>See what I mean?</em></p>
      <p>Chuck gestured back. <em>Be gentle.</em></p>
      <p>Manoosh handed Chuck his gun, and vaulted the rail.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>A black Porsche roared down the road, treating the Virginia highway system like it was a racetrack with only one car on it. No one even tried to pull her over. The word had already gone out, the Porsche Blonde was in hot pursuit.</p>
      <p>While Carina called Davis from the back seat (of course), Casey made a call of his own from the front seat. "Alex? Are you and your guest still enjoying your dinner?"</p>
      <p>"Yes, Dad," said Alex' voice over the speaker. "We were just wondering where to go next."</p>
      <p>"You might want to stay there a while longer. Ask the waiter for the special dessert menu."</p>
      <p>Alex dropped the pretense. Her voice went hollow, as she put the phone on speaker on her end as well. "What's going on, Dad?"</p>
      <p>"Dumb and Dumber decided to buy some diamonds without us."</p>
      <p>Alex didn't respond immediately. When the phone spoke again it was with Wesley's voice. "Tell them to stay out! It looks like an office building, but if he thought something was up my brother could lock that place down like a fortress. No one could get in or out."</p>
      <p>"Thanks for the warning, kid," said Casey caustically. Now the second half of the team would be completely cut off from the first half, rather than right there in the thick of it with them.</p>
      <p>Sarah snatched the phone and took it off speaker. "Yes, thank you, Wesley, we'll take it from here. Alex, if you don't hear from us in an hour I suggest you take him back to your place." She tossed the phone back in its owner's lap. "You really are an ass, Casey."</p>
      <p>"Not as big of an ass as you," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"That's the sort of thing we need to know during the planning stage of an operation, Bartowski. What good does it do us to tell us now?"</p>
      <p>"'Take him back to your place'," came a mumble from the back seat. "Right in front of Daddy Dearest?"</p>
      <p>"Maybe none," admitted Sarah.</p>
      <p>Casey turned his head. Slightly. He wasn't sure what he'd see back there. "She meant the FBI, Miss Phone Sex!"</p>
      <p><em>Like I can do </em>real<em>–Nope, not thinking it. </em>"I knew that," said Carina loudly, and then whispered into her phone, "We'll pick this up later."</p>
      <p>"<em>But</em> he's a civilian," Sarah continued, remembering what happened to the last few civilians who got mixed up in their business, her foot pressing harder on the accelerator with each word, "And he's wounded, and he's a civilian, and his brother is out to kill him, and did I forget to mention he's a civilian."</p>
      <p>"We got it, we got it," said Carina. "His brother's out to get him, no need to go on about it."</p>
      <p>"And we need a plan," said Casey, "Preferably before you get us there <em>yesterday</em>."</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Sarah, easing up on the gas.</p>
      <p>"Make up your mind, Casey," said Carina. "Weren't you just saying you wanted to know all this stuff yesterday?"</p>
      <p><em>Nuts!</em> On the outside, all he said was, "Time travel's cheating."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Chuck!" called Manoosh from the outer room. "A little help please."</p>
      <p>Chuck selected every one of his little scripts in the current folder and dropped them onto the desktop, clicking 'Enter'. Neither elegant nor timely, they would still get the job done, copying everything onto a remote server. Once activated, the first thing the programs did was remove all signs that the processes even existed, but he didn't stay to watch them go. He pulled his fob from the port and ran out of the office to help his partner.</p>
      <p>Manoosh was facing five to one odds at the moment, but one of those five had his back to Chuck. Several tranq darts later the odds were zero to two.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked at the guns in Chuck's hands. "That's cheating, don't you think?"</p>
      <p>"Um, no."</p>
      <p>"Come on, Chuck, we did two on five on stage, it wasn't that hard."</p>
      <p>"All right, a) they took me by surprise, and b) I didn't have a tranq gun on me at the time," said Chuck, holding out the weapon. "But believe me, if I had, those six guys on stage would have been down before they would ever have gotten with hitting distance of anyone on my team. There are no bonus points for elegance here. We're here to win, and that means sometimes you break things."</p>
      <p>"You sound like Casey," said Manoosh with disgust. "Grunt, grunt, achieve the objective, smash, smash."</p>
      <p>Nobody talked about Chuck's friends like that, not even another of Chuck's friends. "You know, it's easy to sneer at Casey as long as you have a Casey to sneer at. But you know what, I don't see Casey around right now. And guess what, we have an objective we need to accomplish, so yes, listen to me grunting."</p>
      <p>A goon leapt into the room, screaming and screeching, flashing two katanas like some modern-day samurai. In seconds, Chuck saw the pattern of the swords, and raised his gun to put a dart in the guy's neck the next time it was clear.</p>
      <p>Manoosh hit his wrist, and the gun went flying. "You know that whole Indiana Jones thing was ad libbed, don't you, Chuck? And in the second movie he lost his gun, remember? And you know why that happened?" Manoosh stabbed a finger at his friend's face, which Chuck did not break off and hand back to him. "Because guns are easy to <em>lose</em>, Chuck."</p>
      <p>"Hey!" said the guy with the swords, and they turned to look at him. "You have to admit it was a funny bit though, both times."</p>
      <p>"Admit this!" said Manoosh, leaping to the attack. Chuck raced to get his gun back, hopefully in time to stop Manoosh from getting too chopped up. Just as he found it someone screamed, high and shrill. He turned and aimed, but only Manoosh was still standing, the swordsman writhing on the ground, his hands and lags clenched tight, but apparently too late.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked at him with scorn. "We're Intersects, Chuck. We're better than that."</p>
      <p>Armed men ran into the room from every entrance, automatic weapons ready. Manoosh tensed, but none of them made any attempt to get close. Karl Sneijder walked into the room, gun in hand. "Always the critic." He screwed a silencer onto his gun. "So no doubt you will agree with me that the prequel trilogy is far superior to the original."</p>
      <p>Manoosh's eyes started to flutter, but Chuck was only a little less surprised than Sneijder when he collapsed. "Good shooting," said Karl, indicating Chuck's gun. "So. Did you bring me my brother?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski sat in her office, dealing with matters that she hadn't had to deal with in years, and she wasn't happy about it. Agent Charles' little mistake at SAFE, her own mistake, was costing her dearly, in contracts lost and/or late nights and advertising in order to get them back. They had the pockets and they had the people, which she'd hoped their clients knew by now, but their loss of face was a cruel reminder of how short people's memories were. Even her current clients were trying to renegotiate their rates.</p>
      <p>She could have been in Germany, shooting and being shot at, something fun. Or the occasional late night meeting with–no, the middle of a war is no place for romance, and Gertrude Verbanski was very good at finding wars to be in. Even as the tactician in her handled the small stuff, the strategist pondered the best response to this attack on her position.</p>
      <p>So when her phone rang she was in no mode to be very nice to the person on the other end of the call. "Miss Walker? It's kind of late to be trying to jump ship but for an agent of your caliber I'll make an exception. What can I do for you? "</p>
      <p>From the sound coming over the phone, 'Miss Walker' was moving at high speed. "You can call me Mrs. Bartowski, Gertrude, or the deal's off."</p>
      <p>"What deal?"</p>
      <p>"The one I'm about to propose."</p>
      <p>The tactician in Gertrude gave way completely to the strategist. Carmichael, Charles, whatever name he went by, he was famous for his deceptive plans, but Sarah wasn't Agent Charles. Was this a ploy, or a chink in their armor? CI had a lot of high cards. After that unplanned demonstration, no one believed Agent Charles' blithe 'no relation' comments, and really, why was he trying to fool people anyway? This was a business that thrived on reputation. What kind of deal would Sarah feel she had to offer? "I'm listening."</p>
      <p>The proposal was short. The implications were…vast. Gertrude wondered if Sarah even knew what she was asking for, or if her years in government service had left her blind to private sector considerations. For the first time in days Gertrude felt like smiling. "Why, Mrs. Bartowski, I do believe we have a deal." And she would back this one up with enough guns to make it stick.</p>
      <p>She hung up. <em>Then</em> she smiled.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh rattled the cuffs securing him to the chair. "I can't believe you knocked me out, when I had him just where I wanted him."</p>
      <p>"I didn't knock you out, you knocked yourself out, just because he dissed Star Wars."</p>
      <p>"Okay, a) everyone with half a brain knows that the prequel series doesn't even deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the original, and b) what makes you think I'd trust anything you said now, Mr. Dart Gun?"</p>
      <p>"Hey, in case you missed it, most of this mess is yours, Hong Kong Fooey, the guys I hit just fell down. And what do you have against dart guns anyway? Five minutes ago it was crossbows–"</p>
      <p>"It's not like dart guns are any improvement–"</p>
      <p>"Shut up!" bellowed Sneijder, and his hostages stopped talking. "You two whine like schoolgirls."</p>
      <p>"Sexist," muttered Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"And a fortunate one at that," said Karl, raising his gun dramatically. "I only need one hostage to get my brother back, and I might have had a hard time deciding which of you to kill."</p>
      <p>"Everybody picks on the artist," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>The lights went out. on the inside. From the outside, harsh blue lights blazed through the windows, illuminating both ceiling and floor as the roar of a helicopter passed overhead.</p>
      <p>Karl didn't have time to lower his blast shields again, or regret raising them in the first place, before armed and hooded figures crashed through the glass on all sides. He couldn't tell friend from foe in the dark, but the intruders had no problem, and red dots appeared on the faces of all his men.</p>
      <p>Manoosh pulled at his cuffs, to no avail. The room was full of art and he was stuck sitting!</p>
      <p>The lights came on. "Drop your weapons," said Gertrude, the only unmasked commando in the room. Karl turned, and she shot the gun out of his hand. The bullet ricocheted, striking a pedestal, making it wobble. Gertrude reached out absently to steady the vase on display, as she said, "Next time I shoot something that matters."</p>
      <p>Karl nodded to his henchmen and they surrendered, Gertrude stalking forward to clap the boss in irons herself. "There are just so many people who would love to get you inside one of their little windowless rooms, Karl." As her forces took him away, she turned to Sarah as she unmasked and said, "And I get to collect the bounties from all of them."</p>
      <p>"Bounties?" asked Chuck, as he was being uncuffed.</p>
      <p>"Sure," said Gertrude. "I'm not above a little pro bono work, Mr. Carmichael, especially for a colleague of your reputation, but I prefer to get paid for my efforts." She gestured casually toward the exit. "Karl there was quite a high-profile target."</p>
      <p>"You certainly deserve it," said Chuck, sticking out a hand. "There's no one I'd rather have at my back than your firm."</p>
      <p>She shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, Mr. Carmichael, you're very kind."</p>
      <p>"Only the truth," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski turned away to oversee the clean-up. "John?" she said, with professional cordiality. "Always a pleasure." He looked good in her uniform. Really good.</p>
      <p>He grunted an equally cordial acknowledgement. Range time tonight.</p>
      <p>Once out of the room, she said to her cameraman, "Edit that last part out."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Chuck, she was filming all that," snapped Carina, not surprisingly the fastest at taking Gertrude's uniform off, handing her gear to one of the men who'd stood enthralled as she did it.</p>
      <p>"I certainly hope so," said Chuck. "Be kind of a waste if she wasn't."</p>
      <p>"You planned that?" said Sarah with a dangerous tone to her voice.</p>
      <p>"Not the getting captured part," said Chuck quickly. "But yeah, we did step on her toes back at SAFE, so it was a reasonable expectation if we had to call her at all. Taking Sneijder as a client just meant it was sooner rather than later. And we got Sneijder's data, which is much more important than the man himself. You see, Manoosh, that's how it's–" He looked around. "Where'd Manoosh go?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Outside Sneijder's office…</p>
      <p>He'd come to her out of the dark, asking about a job. She had a position open in Signals for a man of his talents, she'd bump somebody to make one if she had to, but he wanted a combat role. She laughed in his face.</p>
      <p>He didn't take that well. She almost fell to his attack from sheer surprise, but combat reflexes saved her, and she held him off, far too easily. A-Squad responded instantly to his attack on their boss, and now A-Squad was in need of medical assistance. The little man asked again about a combat role, not even breathing hard.</p>
      <p>"Impressive, Mr. Depak," said Gertrude Verbanski. "Most impressive."</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Lessons Learned</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>I just watched the first section of Frosted Tips. Amazingly bad. The Casey scenes just cry out to be rewritten. So I'm going with the banter instead.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>All of them."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Dumb and Dumber decided to buy some diamonds without us."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Guns are easy to </em>lose<em>, Chuck."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Impressive, Mr. Depak."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"I can't believe you just let him go out by himself like that," said Carina, throwing herself into a chair with her usual abandon. "He's a sitting duck, a helpless little muffin–"</p>
      <p>Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's one of the most dangerous men in the world, and please don't talk about muffins…"</p>
      <p>"I meant the good ones," Carina grumbled.</p>
      <p>"I know what you meant, but the damage is done," said Sarah with a slight shudder. "The point being, I don't have that kind of authority. <em>I'm</em> not his handler."</p>
      <p>Carina threw herself <em>out</em> of the chair. "Oh, God!"</p>
      <p>"What?"</p>
      <p>"Please don't mention him and handling in the same sentence. I just got a visual it'll take me weeks to forget."</p>
      <p>Sarah shrugged. "Could be worse. I once got 'John Casey' and 'Speedo'."</p>
      <p>Carina must have had a stronger imagination than Sarah had. She gagged. "You…You…" She whirled, took a few steps and opened the door. "Chuck! What's a harridan, again?"</p>
      <p>Chuck was in his sleeping berth, getting ready for his meet. He didn't pause putting on his shirt, completely unfazed by the sudden appearance of Carina in his room while he was getting dressed, or the apparently random question. "An unpleasant and bossy older woman."</p>
      <p><em>Crap. </em>No, wait. Sarah was older than her. "So if I call Sarah a cruel harridan…?"</p>
      <p>"Not redundant, no."</p>
      <p>"Thanks, sweetie," called Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, thanks." Carina started to close the door.</p>
      <p>"I'd have to wonder why, though," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Of course you would," said Carina, closing the door , leaving him alone with his curiosity.</p>
      <p>"Banter lessons?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"I try to learn from the best, you cruel harridan."</p>
      <p>"He is that," said Sarah, with a small, carefully hidden grin.</p>
      <p>"You're smirking, aren't you?" said Carina. "I can feel you smirking from here. Cut it out, or better yet, go with him. You know the DoD's not after you. You could be out with the hubby at this meet, maybe spend some quality time together. I can handle this op as well as you, probably better."</p>
      <p>"And yet, he chose me," said Sarah. "I wonder why." She flipped a switch. "Casey?"</p>
      <p>"What?" he replied, his voice low.</p>
      <p>"Carina wants to know if she can run the op, apparently Chuck and I aren't giving her enough vicarious smoochies."</p>
      <p>Casey ignored the question so completely he didn't even mention ladyfeelings. "Don't bail on me now, Bartowski," he snarled. Quietly. "I'm almost in position."</p>
      <p>Sarah made a thumbs-down gesture at her red-headed companion. "So you're finally ready?"</p>
      <p>"I was <em>conceived</em> ready."</p>
      <p>Sarah muted the mike as Carina snickered. "That must have been painful for Mrs. Casey," said the red-head. "Coburn, whatever. Good thing they didn't have sonograms a zillion years ago, otherwise the Gatling gun would have shown right up. Blown his cover before he even had a diaper."</p>
      <p>"That would be a Mauser, Carina," said Sarah. "Or maybe a flintlock. It wouldn't have been a Gatling gun until the seventh month at least."</p>
      <p>Carina laughed. "I don't know what's worse, you saying it or me thinking it's funny."</p>
      <p>"Laughter has been detected," said Chuck from his room (it really was a small facility), in a robotic voice. "Must seek out amusing situation."</p>
      <p>"We were just joking about Casey as a fetus," said Sarah when he came in, suddenly aware of how ridiculous that must have sounded. She cleared her throat, pointing at the speaker. "He started it."</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Chuck. He tried to look menacing, but that didn't work so well, because…Chuck. "What do you mean, no cigars," he snarled, or tried to. "And no Black Label? This place sucks! Sorry, mom, no offense."</p>
      <p>Both women dissolved in a fit of giggles.</p>
      <p>Chuck frowned. "Do I have to remind you that government regulation one-four-seven specifically forbids expressions of joy-slash-happiness on government grounds?"</p>
      <p>"Does it?" asked Sarah, rising to meet the challenge, and the challenger. "You mean like this?" She drew Chuck into a kiss, the kind that says 'fifteen minutes apart is just too goddamn long', her fingers in his hair.</p>
      <p>He made a sound of joy-slash-happiness. "Bus-ted," said Carina in a sing-song voice.</p>
      <p>Sarah looked down. "What are you doing in my seat?"</p>
      <p>"Taking notes," said Carina. "How do you spell 'vicarious'?"</p>
      <p>Sarah pulled away from her husband, patting him on the chest. "You, go." She turned, and grabbed Carina's collar. "You, move."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Hey, Manoosh," said Chuck, knocking on his door. "You ready to move out?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh opened his door instantly. "Willing and waiting, Captain Spiderman, sir. What's the mission?"</p>
      <p>"That's what we're going to find out." As they headed to his car, he noticed the screen lit up on Manoosh's phone. "You reading something?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh took out his phone, tapping the screen to keep it live. "I was reading up about Spiderman and his clones, like you said, and I found this blog about power, and stuff like that. Pretty cool, especially this one guy, he only signs on for a little while every day, but he always says something interesting. You read much of that sort of thing, Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"I get most of my philosophy from comic books and fantasy novels, Manoosh, you know that."</p>
      <p>"Spoken like a true nerd," said Manoosh. "Jeffster1 says he gets his inspirations from music–"</p>
      <p>Chuck stopped. "Jeffster who?"</p>
      <p>"Jeffster1, that's his handle. You know him?"</p>
      <p>Chuck started again. "I knew a band called Jeffster, out in LA."</p>
      <p>"That's where he says he's from."</p>
      <p><em>Small world.</em> "And he only signs in once a day? When?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh had been tracking his usage. "Noon-ish, his time, for about an hour."</p>
      <p><em>Jeff Barnes? </em>Locked in a broken bathroom stall, all by himself. Chuck shook his head in a daze. "Well, at least now I know what he does on his lunch breaks."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Five…four…three…two…one!" said Sarah, and right on cue, Casey turned the corner and stopped right in front of Gertrude Verbanski. The encounter had been planned to happen in front of a traffic camera, and of course they could hear the whole thing over Casey's surveillance equipment.</p>
      <p>"<em>John?"</em> said Gertrude, recovering from the surprise first, even though for Casey it was no surprise at all.</p>
      <p>"<em>Oh, uh, hi, Gertrude,"</em> said Casey. He laughed nervously. <em>"Small world."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Hmm,"</em> she <em>hmm</em>-ed, stepping forward. She ran a hand up his arm, fingers trailing lightly. <em>"Nice and cozy, but I expect some parts of it will be getting larger before too much…longer."</em></p>
      <p>Casey <em>urk</em>-ed in the back of his throat but made no audible sound.</p>
      <p>"Casey! Casey!" Sarah hit the button several times, knowing it would make some obnoxious beeps in his ear. "Restore your perimeter, Colonel."</p>
      <p>"Sarah?" asked Carina. "What the hell are you doing? She's totally into him!"</p>
      <p>"Who cares? It's him being totally into her that I'm worried about," said Sarah. "This is not a seduction mission, Casey!"</p>
      <p>"It is for her," said Carina, pointing at the video from the traffic-cam. "Why are you so eager to block his…play?"</p>
      <p>"He told me to," said Sarah. She dropped her voice, not very far, but managed to capture his tone a bit better. "'It's Gertrude, Bartowski, I can't trust myself. I need you to keep me on script.'" She leaned close to the mike. "Not that he's <em>listening</em> when I do. Casey, plant the bug and get out of there!"</p>
      <p>"<em>I was on my way to this little oyster place I know, not far from here,"</em> said Casey, as the script dictated.</p>
      <p>"<em>The Cerulean, my favorite,"</em> said Gertrude. She smiled up at him. <em>"I'm thinking maybe I could go for some Blue Points right about now…"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>They have a mignonette sauce to die for,"</em> said Casey. <em>"Something to thank the French for, along with helping to establish this great country of ours."</em></p>
      <p>Carina hit the switch. "Oh, that's smooth, Romeo."</p>
      <p>"Good," said Sarah, "We don't want smooth."</p>
      <p>Gertrude laughed lightly.<em> "You never were very good with the chit-chat. In case you don't know, this is the part where you ask me to dinner."</em></p>
      <p>Casey stuck out a hand. Gertrude looking puzzled, took it.</p>
      <p>"No," said Carina. "You're supposed to move in, give her a kiss on the cheek, let her know you're interested."</p>
      <p>"Good work, Casey," said Sarah. "You're back in the friend zone. Plant the bug already, and walk away."</p>
      <p>John raised her hand to his lips, and brushed a kiss across Gertrude's knuckles. <em>"If I may have the honor…?"</em></p>
      <p>"No!" said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Yes!" said Carina. "And away they go." She pointed at the traffic-cam image, as Gertrude turned in Casey's arms and they stepped out into the street.</p>
      <p>Sarah threw herself back in her chair. "Am I the only one who knows how to stay on mission?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Hey, Chuck?" asked Manoosh, as Chuck pulled his car into the small lot for restaurant employees.</p>
      <p>"Yeah, Manoosh?"</p>
      <p>"Shouldn't we be parked in the customer section?"</p>
      <p>"We're not here to eat," said Chuck, killing the engine. "I was asked to keep this meeting as low-key as I could."</p>
      <p>"Someone'll be coming out?"</p>
      <p>"Nope."</p>
      <p>"So we're going in?" Manoosh said with distaste. "Waiting on tables?"</p>
      <p>"Like Casey always says, no one notices the waiters. Or was that Morgan?" He snapped his fingers. "Nope, it was Morgan. With Casey it's bartenders, or janitors."</p>
      <p>"You're taking spy advice from those two?"</p>
      <p>"Why not?" Chuck opened the door, and Manoosh followed him out. "The name of the game is to be invisible, and that takes skill. Doesn't it, Sam?"</p>
      <p>Morgan's favorite headwaiter was waiting for them. "Yes it does, Mr. Carmichael, although the uniforms don't hurt. Most people don't notice the guy inside the jacket unless he screws up or something, so don't do that." He scanned Chuck's body as they walked to the side entrance. "Not sure I have anything in your size, though."</p>
      <p><em>Roll with it.</em> "What about my partner here?"</p>
      <p>Sam sized Manoosh up. "Oh yeah, you we can do. You up to it?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh snorted. "Anything he can do, I can do."</p>
      <p>Sam nodded. "We'll set you up with a good bottle of wine. Your party's in the secure booth already."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"I don't know what you're crying about." Carina pointed at the other screen, the street, the people, the Cerulean in the distance. "He planted your bug, you big baby. Even better, now we know how John Casey ever managed to have a daughter. Every ounce of moxie that girl's got, she must have inherited from her mother."</p>
      <p>"If you ask Casey, I think he might even agree with you," said Sarah. "But I wouldn't recommend asking. I don't think he likes Alex Coburn very much. He never talks about him."</p>
      <p>"It's not a 'him', it's a part of his life," said Carina. "He has a past he's not proud of, so what? He seems to be enjoying his present well enough." Gertrude's bug showed Casey's large hand as he opened the door to the oyster bar.</p>
      <p>Sarah snapped off the monitor, letting them have their privacy.</p>
      <p>"What's the bug for, anyway? Seems kind of stalker-y, even for an emotionally-stunted Marine."</p>
      <p>"It wasn't Casey's idea, it was Chuck's."</p>
      <p><em>Okay. Um…</em>"Why would Chuck want to put a bug on Verbanski?"</p>
      <p>"Protective coloration," said Sarah. "He figures as long as CI is around, it should look and act like other spy companies, but he doesn't know how other spy companies act."</p>
      <p>"Bugging the CEO of your rival is a good start."</p>
      <p>Sarah squirmed at the charge. Gertrude may have been a rival, but she was a friendly one, very friendly where John Casey was concerned, and it bothered Sarah a bit to take advantage of her good graces so soon after getting back into them. "We're not bugging her, we're…studying her."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh walked to the booth, back straight, tray level, and bottle steady. He tapped lightly on the plaque by the secure booth. "Madame, your wine?"</p>
      <p>"Come in," said General Beckman.</p>
      <p>If Manoosh was surprised to see Alex McHugh in the booth as the General's guest, he kept it buried. He busied himself preparing the General's wine as she continued her conversation, apparently with her guest. "The target is Mats Zorn."</p>
      <p>"The guy with the whistleblower website?" asked Alex.</p>
      <p>"Exactly," said Beckman, waving away the cork Manoosh offered to her. He placed it on the tray. "He males Wiki-Leaks look like child's play."</p>
      <p>"And he's got my disk?"</p>
      <p>"Along with a number of other highly-confidential CIA memos, but the disk is by far the most important," said Beckman. She took the glass with a small amount of wine from Manoosh, inhaling the aroma. "We've had inquiries about the Norseman from numerous government agencies from around the world. They can't be allowed to know that we destroyed such a unique device." She sipped her wine. "Not to mention what would happen if the news went public." She nodded to Manoosh, setting down her glass, and he poured for both ladies.</p>
      <p>"I'd think people would be happy to know it was gone," said Alex.</p>
      <p>"People are far too easily manipulated, by anyone with a billion dollars and an axe to grind, and there are far too many of those," said the General. "Better that they never know." She held up a small flash drive. "This has the details of the mission. Zorn's constantly on the move, as you can imagine, but he can't risk his mole in the CIA getting discovered and he'll need authenticity, so they can't transmit the recording. He'll have to pick it up himself." She placed the drive on the tray. "We'll leave it to you to figure out when and where to take him down. We can and will have no connection to the entire affair, is that clear? If you can figure out a way to collect the bounty on Zorn, so much the better."</p>
      <p>"Yes, ma'am," said Alex.</p>
      <p>"Then here's to a successful mission," said the General, and she and Alex toasted as Manoosh scooped up the drive and his tray, and left.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Sarah scanned the room as best she could from the vantage point of Gertrude's shoulder, as the other woman sat bent over her desk, hard at work. The date had ended, with Casey on his way back to base and Gertrude heading back to her office. While Sarah couldn't fault her work ethic, the décor was another story, all metal and plastic.</p>
      <p><em>Metal and plastic what? </em>"Trophy cases?" They didn't look like weapons intended to be used. Not only were they not racked properly, she recognized some of the outlines as being those of museum pieces. That silenced pistol looked like it was twenty years old!</p>
      <p>She looked around their own small space. Not enough room down here for the stuff they used, much less any trophies, even if they were tacky enough to put them up.</p>
      <p>The phone rang on the screen. By a strange coincidence, the phone in her pocket rang as well.</p>
      <p>"Hello?" they both said.</p>
      <p>"Sarah?" asked Ellie.</p>
      <p>Sarah turned down the volume on the speaker. She'd check the recording later, if Casey thought it was safe. "Hey, Ellie, what's up?"</p>
      <p>"Is Manoosh there?"</p>
      <p>"He went out with Chuck," said Sarah, checking the time. They should be on their way back by now. "They had a meet with a client."</p>
      <p>"He had an appointment with me," said Ellie. "Dad and I don't like the look of the scans, and we wanted him to come in for a full workup."</p>
      <p>"I thought you wanted us to keep him safe and away from the lab?"</p>
      <p>"That was before," said Ellie. 'Before what', she didn't say, but Sarah thought she knew. The fall of Karl Sneijder had made the news, and naturally they'd told her the true story behind it. "Diane said we'll have the DoD off our backs soon, but Dad and I don't think we can wait that long. We asked him to come in tonight."</p>
      <p>"He didn't say anything about it to us…"</p>
      <p>"I was afraid of that."</p>
      <p>"That's why you asked him and not me or Chuck?" said Sarah. "Some sort of test?"</p>
      <p>"We don't have a baseline," said Ellie. "So we're trying to make some behavioral correlations. We wanted to see what he'd do. Or not do."</p>
      <p>Sarah went for the most innocent explanation. "You think he forgot? Something's wrong with his memory?"</p>
      <p>"I wish I could," said Ellie. "But whatever's going on I don't think it's nearly that straightforward. Can you just get him in here, please?"</p>
      <p>"As soon as they get back, shouldn't be long."</p>
      <p>"Thanks."</p>
      <p>Naturally, the second the call ended she heard the outer airlock open. "Chuck?"</p>
      <p>"It's me," said Casey. He checked the feed from the bug straight off. "What's with the sound?"</p>
      <p>"She got a phone call."</p>
      <p>"And you turned it down, good." He'd been very emphatic that they not spy on Gertrude or her clients. All they wanted were some visuals, after all, but they couldn't just drop by and visit, not now. He put on his earphones to check the feed, while fiddling with the visual controls to blur the writing on the pages she was looking at. "You'd better not have been looking at this."</p>
      <p>"Relax," said Sarah with some exasperation. "I was on the phone with Ellie, she's worried about Manoosh."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted a <em>me, too</em> but his reasons were probably not the same as a trained health care professional's. Just then they heard the airlock cycle again. Sarah got up to welcome her husband back from his evening away from her, while Casey turned up the gain on his headphones until it was over.</p>
      <p>"Where's Manoosh?" Sarah asked, and Casey knew it was safe to pay attention again.</p>
      <p>"No idea," said Chuck. "I stopped to get some munchies and he was gone." He turned to look at Casey, intent on the screen. "Casey, you up for a little hide-and-seek?"</p>
      <p>"I don't think so, Bartowski," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Come on, big guy, it'll be fun," said Chuck in a cajoling tone. "He's even got a head start on us and everything."</p>
      <p>Casey took off his headphones and turned up the sound. "I mean I don't think so because I don't have to." He gestured at the screen angrily. Manoosh was there, sitting across from Gertrude in her office. "I can't believe she'd poach from <em>us</em>!"</p>
      <p>"Shh," said Chuck and Sarah together.</p>
      <p>"Well, Miss Verbanski," said Manoosh, his face coming closer to fill the screen. "Have you thought about my offer?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2</strong> I always thought of Casey as the embodiment of personal honor and courage, so that's the way I wanted that scene to play out, plus he'd already established a stronger relationship with Verbansski in this story, so the cowardly lover angle wouldn't have worked anyway. The hardest part of the chapter was coming up with a semi-plausible explanation for why they'd bug Gertrude that wasn't too stalker-y. They portrayed Chuck as being overly-obsessive about his proposal, of all things, so why not put that attention to detail into CI? Better than a cowardly, dishonorable Casey.</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>Sorry for the scene changes, but the alternative is a hell of a lot of italics.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"I'm<em> not his handler."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Restore your perimeter, Colonel!"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Anything he can do, I can do."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>Have you thought about my offer?"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh's face shrank in the screen, but he wasn't backing down. The bug on Gertrude's jacket moved away from him as she settled back into her chair. "<em>Your offer was…very generous, Mr. Depak</em>," she said in puzzled tones, "<em>So much so that I have to wonder why you made it</em>."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, you little traitor," snarled Casey. "What she said."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In Gertrude's office…</p>
      <p>"I thought you'd be happy to have someone who can do what I do," said Manoosh.</p>
      <p>"Then you thought wrong," said Verbanski harshly. "This is a security services company, Mr. Depak. A man with your demonstrated abilities, offering them to me for practically nothing, doesn't make me happy. It makes me wonder what you're really after."</p>
      <p>"I want what any man with power wants, Miss Verbanski," said Manoosh. "The chance to use it, to do good works for the right reasons."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at CI…</p>
      <p>"Kid thinks he's Superman," sneered Casey. No way Gertrude would fall for a line like that.</p>
      <p>"No, he doesn't," said Chuck quietly.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Verbanski Corp. again…</p>
      <p>"That's a very comic book view of power, Mr. Depak," said Gertrude, disappointed. Typical nerd. "And hardly appropriate to a mercenary outfit like mine."</p>
      <p>"That's where you're wrong," said Manoosh. "Maybe it's inappropriate for other companies but for this one it's just right. I saw you save that vase the other night, at Sneijder's place."</p>
      <p>Gertrude didn't remember it. "So?"</p>
      <p>"So I know that you would do the right thing if you could. You could have let that vase fall but you didn't."</p>
      <p>She shrugged. "I wouldn't have wanted a distraction in a tense situation."</p>
      <p>"And that's what I'm offering you," said Manoosh triumphantly. "With my skills you can do your job without having to worry about collateral damage. Every operation, neat and tidy, with no breakage."</p>
      <p>Gertrude considered that. No breakage was a nice-to-have in her world, which was rarely ever achieved. The clients who wanted anything close to it paid a hefty premium for the extra work and risk, but if she could cut that cost she could lower the price and still make a fortune.</p>
      <p>Of course, so could Carmichael Industries. "I don't recall this service being mentioned during your company's presentation the other day."</p>
      <p>"We didn't mention it, exactly," said Manoosh. "If you'd been watching you'd have seen–"</p>
      <p>"I had men in the audience, Mr. Depak. They saw a ruined club and mountain covered with wreckage. Not exactly neat and tidy."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back at CI…</p>
      <p>Chuck frowned. "It was only one train car."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In Gertrude's office…</p>
      <p>Manoosh squirmed. "It was only one train car…"</p>
      <p>Point to Manoosh, but Gertrude hadn't gotten to where she was by letting anyone know what she was thinking<em>. </em>One train car instead of the whole train, one dead body instead of a dozen, but she doubted anyone else would see it that way. Few people would think about the major disaster they didn't get, instead of the minor disaster you actually gave them. The clients would, but they were a demanding bunch. For them even 'tiny' wasn't enough, so they'd only complain about the lack of a cover-up. "You need better marketing."</p>
      <p>"Maybe they do," said Manoosh, "But what <em>I</em> need is a team with more people in it, so I wouldn't have to accept a destroyed train car or a broken vase as an 'acceptable loss.'"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Watching the monitor…</p>
      <p>"What the hell–!" said Chuck. "You were the one–" He turned to his comrades and gestured at the monitor. "It was <em>his</em> idea–"</p>
      <p>"<em>Well, I definitely think we can offer you that,</em>" said Gertrude. The camera moved forward again, as she leaned forward to offer a hand to her guest and newest employee. "<em>Congratulations, Mr. Depak. Welcome to Verbanski Corp.</em>"</p>
      <p>Casey snapped off the monitor in disgust. "Congratulations, Bartowski," he said to Chuck. "Looks like you've managed to lose your asset. Can't wait to hear how you explain this to the General."</p>
      <p>"It's worse than that, Casey," said Chuck, eyes wide, staring at some horror of his own imagining. "A lot worse."</p>
      <p>"What do you mean, Chuck?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>"We're gonna have to explain this to <em>Ellie</em>."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The next morning…</p>
      <p>"I'm not sure I can explain it, Eleanor," said Orion. "Not even Chuck displayed these behaviors."</p>
      <p>"What about Carmichael?"</p>
      <p>"That was an artificial persona, wholly separate from Chuck's personality," said her father dismissively. "Whatever's happening to Manoosh is happening to <em>him</em>, changing him, but without a 'before' shot I can't say what those changes are."</p>
      <p>Ellie nodded. "All we have are outward manifestations."</p>
      <p>"And inconsistent manifestations, at that."</p>
      <p>"You think so?" asked Ellie.</p>
      <p>"You don't?"</p>
      <p>"Of course not," said Ellie. "People aren't programs, Dad. They're messy and multi-dimensional, and they don't always make sense. Everything we've seen so far is perfectly consistent with the Manoosh I know."</p>
      <p>"And how well do you know him?"</p>
      <p>"Pretty well, he seems to think," said Ellie proudly. "I know he thinks of me as a surrogate mother."</p>
      <p>"Just like Chuck, eh?" said Orion with a laugh.</p>
      <p>Ellie smiled. "Like brothers. But with his own, unique baggage." Such as his actual mother, and everyone he'd ever known, just about.</p>
      <p>"Well, fortunately he's got us to be his own, unique, baggage handlers."</p>
      <p>Eye-roll. "God, Dad, with lines like that it's no wonder Mom stayed in Russia."</p>
      <p>"Well…"</p>
      <p>Ellie panicked. <em>Please don't tell me…!</em></p>
      <p>"…Perhaps you'd better tell me more about my new adopted son, then," said Orion. "See if we can find the cure for what ails him."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"What do you mean she's not there?" Chuck yelled into the phone.</p>
      <p>"Dude, you sound stressed," said Devon.</p>
      <p>"You have no idea," said Chuck, taking a deep breath. It wasn't Devon's fault, except by reflection. Devon never sounded stressed, and that made his stress more stressful.</p>
      <p>"Oh, I think I do, Chuck."</p>
      <p>That's right, this was Devon. He <em>did</em> sound stressed. For Devon. "What do you mean?"</p>
      <p>"Ellie's back in the lab," said Devon pseudo-calmly. "Something about consulting with a specialist. I've taken my paternity leave time to be with Clara."</p>
      <p>To the best of Chuck's knowledge, Clara was the sweetest, most well-behaved child that had ever been born. Ellie said so. From the sound of it, Devon had taken her at her word and thrown himself into the deep end of the kiddie-pool, finding it deeper than he thought. Chuck risked a look at Sarah, but she had her 'Agent' face on. "Is it…is it bad?"</p>
      <p>"Oh, it's brutal, bro."</p>
      <p>Chuck's voice got smaller. "Really?"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, I've done my entire morning routine, and it's not even ten o'clock. I don't know how I'll make it until Ellie gets home."</p>
      <p>Sarah's professional mask cracked, letting out a bright smile. "Yeah," said Chuck. Devon-stress was not like normal Earth-stress. "I can, well, um…tell you what, when I talk to Ellie I'll ask her for some tips."</p>
      <p>"No, don't do that, dude," said Devon quickly. "I don't need awesome tips from an awesome mom. If I'm gonna be an awesome dad I have to figure out my own tips."</p>
      <p>"That's the spirit, Devon," said Chuck. "Can't be awesome without being…"</p>
      <p>They finished together. "Awesome."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Whatever Chuck and his team expected to see when they heard the airlocks cycling and the doors opening, it wasn't what they got when Manoosh finally made his appearance. He looked exactly the same as when he'd left the night before, except for the bright smile and the big box.</p>
      <p>"Hey Chuck. Hey, guys," he said to his former teammates as they sat there, drinking coffee and looking at him. "I'm glad you're all here." He put the box on the table.</p>
      <p>"Hey, Manoosh," said Chuck neutrally. "What's all this?"</p>
      <p>"It's some stuff for you guys that I picked up." He opened the box, and started unloading vests, helmets, optics, and assorted hardware onto the table. "I hope it all fits. If it doesn't let me know the right size and I'll take it back."</p>
      <p>"What do you mean, it's 'stuff for us'?" asked Casey, looking at the gear suspiciously. "Where'd you get all this?"</p>
      <p>"From Verbanski Corp.," said Manoosh. "She was going to give me a signing bonus, but I figured you guys would need something to help keep you safe once I'm gone, so I got the gear instead. Except for the MonoTracer, of course, I got that for me. Gotta have something to get around in."</p>
      <p>"You bought a MonoTracer?" asked Carina.</p>
      <p>"Duh, of course I didn't buy it," scoffed Manoosh. "They're not legal in the US. But Verbanski owns a bunch of them for use outside the borders."</p>
      <p>"So she just <em>gave</em> you one?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh hesitated. "Let's just say, assigned for my exclusive use. All electric, nice and green, and silent, so the bad guys won't hear me coming. Between the Intersect and the top speed I'll be coming pretty fast, too–!"</p>
      <p>"You made a deal with Verbanski? Why?"</p>
      <p>"Lots of reasons, Chuck," said Manoosh. "You saw how they broke all those windows at Sneijder's place. We're just lucky they didn't break anything else. With me around it won't be just luck anymore, and besides, with you around, you don't really need me here."</p>
      <p>Chuck nodded. "All good, solid reasons.'</p>
      <p>Manoosh winced. "Yeah, I know. They sounded good to me too, but the truth is, Chuck, that it's totally personal. I just can't work with you anymore."</p>
      <p>Chuck put a hand on his chest, while Sarah said "Chuck?" The sweetest, nicest, kindest, most wonderful man in the world?</p>
      <p>"Yes, him," said Manoosh. "Here we are, the two most powerful weapons on the planet, and you insist on letting these…cavemen tell us what to do when they shouldn't even <em>be</em> there."</p>
      <p>"And you think Verbanski won't?" snarled Casey.</p>
      <p>"She's smart enough to know what I can do and let me do it."</p>
      <p>"Somehow I doubt that," said Sarah. "She's smart, yes, but Gertrude Verbanski isn't the type to leave loose cannons just lying around."</p>
      <p>"I'm not loose," said Manoosh. "I'm self-aiming."</p>
      <p>"And self-launching," muttered Chuck into his coffee cup.</p>
      <p>Carina gusted out a laugh. "Yeah, those are <em>so</em> popular. Go on, ask me how I know this."</p>
      <p>"That was a mistake," said Manoosh. To Chuck. "See, you were right, and I admit it. That's why I went to Verbanski, let the cavemen beat on the cavemen so I can save the Mona Lisa. This place doesn't have enough cavemen, and anyway they all listen to you, not to me."</p>
      <p>"'Cause he makes sense," sneered Casey.</p>
      <p>"Said the troll."</p>
      <p>Casey rose out of his chair. "Fine, go. This team didn't need you before and we don't need you now. Just tell me one thing. What's your favorite flower?"</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked confused. "Why do you want to know?"</p>
      <p>"So I can send them to your funeral after you tell the General–both of them–that you're walking out on them."</p>
      <p>"Hmm," said Manoosh. "About that…"</p>
      <p>Chuck's phone began to ring.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Shall I kill him, General?" asked Casey. "You know I will if you want me to."</p>
      <p>"Thanks for the offer, Colonel, but that won't be necessary," said Beckman, sounding genuinely grateful. "Mr. Depak may not know the rules of the game but his new employer does."</p>
      <p>"You're letting him go to work for Verbanski Corp.?" asked Chuck.</p>
      <p>"Mr. Bartowski, short of carefully and meticulously disabling every possible employer Mr. Depak might approach in the DC area, there is nothing we can do to force him to work for us."</p>
      <p>"He attempted to commit treason," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"That ship has sailed, Colonel, thanks to his invaluable and exemplary service since that time. So, we will allow the experiment to continue under slightly altered circumstances. Miss Verbanski has been tasked with the oversight and reporting of Mr. Depak's behavior, without knowing the details of the project. Meanwhile, I'm sure your team has other matters to attend to."</p>
      <p>Chuck felt his pocket, and the flash drive there. "Yes, ma'am."</p>
      <p>"Then I suggest you attend to them." The call ended as abruptly as ever.</p>
      <p>Casey pushed the phone towards Chuck with a disappointed grunt. "So he lives."</p>
      <p>Sarah nodded. "I'll tell Carina it's safe to let Manoosh out of his room."</p>
      <p>Casey scowled as she walked away. "What are they doing in there, playing patty-cake?"</p>
      <p>"I hope not," said Chuck, bringing his computer out of hibernation.</p>
      <p>"What's that supposed to mean?"</p>
      <p>"It means you have a dirty mind, Casey," said Carina, coming into the room with a rolled-up poster in her hand. She uncurled it a little, to show him the title of the most recent Transformers movie. "He flashed when he saw this, as Chuck expected." She rolled it back up and handed it over.</p>
      <p>Chuck took it from there. "He got a headache, Carina gave him some aspirin, and suggested he lie down for a bit."</p>
      <p>"Where the scanner is," finished Casey.</p>
      <p>Carina touched the tip of her nose. Carefully, since it was real and she wanted it to stay that way.</p>
      <p>Sarah came back into the room. "He's gone. Took all of his stuff, too."</p>
      <p>"Make sure Ellie knows."</p>
      <p>"Already done," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Good riddance," said Casey. "Now what's this mission Beckman gave us?"</p>
      <p>"Ironically enough, it was damage control," said Chuck, plugging the flash drive Manoosh had given him last night into the port. "The target's name is…oh, God."</p>
      <p>"The Lord Almighty's a bit out of our league, Bartowski."</p>
      <p>Chuck moved his window onto the big monitor without a word.</p>
      <p>"The Amazing Spider-blog?" said Carina. "Is that even a thing?"</p>
      <p>"It is if you're Manoosh," said Chuck. "He gave me the wrong flash-drive."</p>
      <p>"And took the right one straight to Verbanski's office," said Casey. "The little traitor stole our mission."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, outside Verbanski Corp.'s main facility…</p>
      <p>"There's only one thing more embarrassing than having our mission stolen out from under us by that ungrateful little worm," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"And what's that?" asked Carina, quietly.</p>
      <p>"Getting caught in the act stealing it back."</p>
      <p>"If this is some new and subtle way of expressing the complete and absolute faith you have in my abilities," said Archer, lifting her bow, "Drop dead." She checked the wind again. "You see them?"</p>
      <p>"I think so," said Casey, glad he had to wonder. "We should get the signal any–"</p>
      <p>Something went tap-tap in their earpieces, and Carina loosed her arrows, silent, non-metallic, and tipped with enough Twilight gas to knock out any guards they had in the shack she was aiming for. Casey watched as the guards turned at the noise, but toppled before they could do anything else. "You're up," he said into his mike, as Carina put her gear in the back of their vehicle.</p>
      <p>Chuck raced around the corner towards the guard shack, with Sarah not so close behind. He stopped outside the range of the camera watching the gate, and turned, joining his hands. Sarah kept coming, and when she reached her husband she stepped into his hands. He stood tall and straight, throwing her into the air, and over the fence. She tumbled to a stop, then went into the shack, disabled the camera, and unlocked the gate. By the time she and Chuck had finished setting the guards up in their chairs, Casey and Carina had already raced past them to secure a position in the motor pool. They restored the system and left the guards to wake up, unaware they'd ever been out, as they went to join their teammates.</p>
      <p>In the back of the motor pool, Casey and Carina were stripping a number of unconscious bodies of their VC jackets and markers, the better to blend in. They split up, some going to take over the nearest security substation, while others went to Verbanski's office, and her safe.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski sent her newest employee to his training class, and stepped into her office. She paused by the door, her every sense alert. Something was wrong, even though nothing was out of place, and she trusted her instincts. She stalked her own office like it was enemy territory, scanning, listening, smelling. Tobacco. Someone had recently opened her cigar box!</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>An entire squad ringed the training circle, hands gloved and heads padded, waiting. Manoosh stepped into the circle, no gloves, no headgear. "Okay gentlemen, here are the rules. You attack me however you like. When I hit you three times, you stay down."</p>
      <p>"What happens if I…one of us hits you three times? Sir?" asked a brave soul.</p>
      <p>Manoosh just smiled, and gestured the man forward.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Verbanski approached the mirrored door that disguised her closet, standing slightly open. "Is that a flash drive in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"</p>
      <p>The door slammed open, forcing Gertrude to throw herself backward to avoid injury. "I don't flash just anyone," said Sarah, pouncing on her 'enemy' and putting her into an arm lock.</p>
      <p>Gertrude smashed her head back, pulling out Sarah's loosened grip."Too bad you're not John," said Verbanski, reversing their positions and throwing Sarah against the wall. "This would be a lot more fun." She pulled the flash drive from Sarah's hand.</p>
      <p>Sarah pushed off from the wall, and they both fell over a chair. "Bit of a dilemma for the poor guy, don't you think?" She held up the flash drive and put it into a pocket, zipping it shut. She lifted a hand and beckoned Gertrude forward.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey and Carina waited patiently, as Manoosh quickly and methodically defeated every other man in the circle around him. They attacked him singly, and in groups, and then in bunches, but not in the thing that mattered most. When there was no one else left , they stepped forward together. When Casey attacked, Carina was there to take advantage of Manoosh's obvious counter-move. She scored the first hit of the day.</p>
      <p>"Oo, teamwork," said Manoosh. "About time."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude's office had seen better days. Sarah had the strength and agility, while Gertrude had the experience and the home field advantage. The carpet, for example, was fairly well-behaved when you walked across it with shoes that had been treated as Verbanski's had been. To Sarah's shoes, on the other hand, it was a bit…grabbier.</p>
      <p>Sarah took a step forward and her feet failed to slide as she expected, and she overbalanced. Gertrude grabbed her flailing arm and brought it around behind her back, cuffing her opponent's wrists. She rolled Sarah over, reaching for her zippered pocket. "Better luck next time."</p>
      <p>Sarah pulled her arms forward, gripping Gertrude's shoulders and kicking up with her legs, flipping Gertrude over to crash on the floor. Before Verbanski knew what hit her she was standing by the railing to her office space, wearing her own cuffs. "I prefer this time," said Sarah.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The score was tied, two to four, and Manoosh was keeping his distance. "You guys are good," he said.</p>
      <p>"They should be," said Chuck, standing behind him.</p>
      <p>Manoosh lunged forward and turned, to keep all his enemies in sight. On either side, Casey and Carina stripped off their helmets to show their faces. "We've trained with a real Intersect often enough," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"I'll show you real," said Manoosh. He lifted his wrist-com and said, "We've got a breach!"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>After I came up with the Amazing Spider-Blog, I checked to see if there was one. There's a defunct website for one, that says it moved, but I have no idea where it moved to. In any event, my reference here has no relation to it or any other blog with that title.</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>A little hard to plot this chapter out. Manoosh's problems are very different from Morgan's and resolving them is trickier. I had some ideas for ways to go but the story didn't go those ways, so it's a little different from what I expected. And a few little goodies for you Archer fans. Some brilliantly racy banter in that show.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>It was only one train car."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I just can't work with you anymore."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>The little traitor stole our mission."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>We've got a breach!"</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Gertrude pulled futilely against her own cuffs, but she'd stocked the good ones. The railing, too, was a high-quality construction, no way she'd break that either. "You won't make it to the gate before my men stop you."</p>
      <p>"The same men who were supposed to keep us out?" asked Sarah, patting the pocket with the drive in it.</p>
      <p><em>Keep talking.</em> Gertrude felt along the inside of her belt for the key she kept there. "I'm not a thief," she said. "I would have given the drive back to you."</p>
      <p>"Yes, I noticed how you turned your back on a multimillion-dollar bounty and the potential government contracts, and just let me walk out the door with our property," snarked Sarah. "No wait, that didn't happen, did it?"</p>
      <p>"You invaded my office."</p>
      <p>Sarah shrugged, as if penetrating to the heart of Verbanski Corp. was no big deal. "You didn't leave the drive at the front gate, with an apology."</p>
      <p>"Fine," snapped Verbanski, not looking forward to being discovered like this in her own office. <em>Oh, well. </em>It'd be good for a lesson plan, if nothing else. "Take it and get out of here."</p>
      <p>"One second," said Sarah. "I've got two things to do, first." She came close and knelt by Gertrude's feet, loosening one boot.</p>
      <p>"What the hell are you doing?"</p>
      <p>Sarah didn't answer. Instead she held up a handcuff key, which had been in Gertrude's belt until a few minutes ago. "You can stop looking for this." She put it on the floor.</p>
      <p>"You know I can reach that," said Gertrude. Once she got that boot off. And the sock.</p>
      <p>"Of course you can," said Sarah, standing up. "But you'd have to lower yourself to do it, and that may take a while." She turned and walked away, but stopped when she saw the plaque on the nearest trophy case. 'Taken from John Casey, Minsk, 1995.' She scanned the room. No trophy was closer to her desk than this one. "Place of honor, I see." She lifted the gun from the rack, checked the action. Everything worked as smoothly as if it had been cleaned yesterday.</p>
      <p>Gertrude looked away. "You gonna…take it back to him?"</p>
      <p>"No," said Sarah, putting it carefully back. "That's your job." She headed for the door, but she hadn't made it to the door before Verbanski's phone announced, "We've got a breach!"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Down in the training yard…</p>
      <p>"You call that real?" asked Carina. "Calling for a horde of cavemen to fight your battles, the second a real Intersect shows up?"</p>
      <p>"Let's not go overboard," mumbled Chuck.</p>
      <p>"I am a real Intersect!"</p>
      <p>"Not by half, Pinocchio," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"Chuck's smart enough to know what he can't so," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"What he shouldn't do," said Casey.</p>
      <p>"And to know when he needs a team," said Sarah from behind him.</p>
      <p>As Manoosh turned again, the loudspeaker barked, "We've had a breach!" Verbanski had no trouble lowering herself when no one was around to see it. Unfortunately the people closest to the breach were all unconscious.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked at his former teammates. "You came for the drive."</p>
      <p>"We didn't come for <em>you</em>, if that's what you mean," said Casey.</p>
      <p>A caveman's disdain didn't bother Manoosh one bit, but he hoped that Chuck would…well, never mind. He glared at Sarah. "Give it back!"</p>
      <p>She pulled out her tranq gun. "No."</p>
      <p>As Manoosh flashed on attack techniques, Chuck stepped up and pulled Manoosh's shorts down around his ankles.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked down. "What?" he rounded on Chuck. "You pantsed the Intersect?"</p>
      <p>"No, " said Chuck, "I pantsed a little guy with superpowers."</p>
      <p>Manoosh flashed, his eyes rolling up farther in his head than usual. He shuffled forward, mumbling, "Curse you, Aqua-scum!" His shorts caught his feet, and he started to fall. Chuck, being Chuck, caught him before he could break anything, and laid him out on the ground. As members of the Yellow and Red teams appeared in the yard, armed and ready if mildly confused, they took off for the gate, tranqing everything in their way, including the two guards who'd just woken up.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, back at CI, while Casey and Carina were scanning the mission data…</p>
      <p>"I can't believe I just left him," said Chuck.</p>
      <p>Sarah, sitting next to him on the narrow bunk in his berth, gave him a hug. "He made his choice," she said, seating herself in his lap and kissing him when that observation didn't seem to have any effect. "He made that bed…"</p>
      <p>"Training yard," corrected Chuck, "And I left him lying in it. What kind of friend am I? I wouldn't have left Morgan like that."</p>
      <p>"Morgan wouldn't have betrayed you."</p>
      <p>"Not now," agreed Chuck, "But there was this one time–"</p>
      <p><em>What? </em>"When?"</p>
      <p>"Seventh grade."</p>
      <p>Ancient history. Water under the bridge. "You have to go that far back?"</p>
      <p>"Mm-hmm. He grew this thick, perfect mustache, and got all Dark-Lord on us. Believe me, Morgan going 'Dark Lord' is pretty ugly."</p>
      <p>"So what happened?" asked Sarah, when he stopped talking.</p>
      <p>Chuck smiled. "He got pantsed in front our entire gym class by a girl. Hard to be a Dark Lord in your underwear."</p>
      <p>Or an Intersect. "So that's why you…?" Sarah gestured over her shoulder.</p>
      <p>"I couldn't let him hurt you, but I didn't want to hurt him, either."</p>
      <p>Sarah snuggled in closer, bestowing a firmer kiss. "And that's why you're my hero." Someone knocked on the door, and Sarah dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Dammit."</p>
      <p>Chuck laughed softly in her ear. "Hold that thought."</p>
      <p>"Believe me," growled Sarah, her head coming up again, "That's not what I plan to hold." She scowled fiercely at the door. "Come!"</p>
      <p>"Phrasing!" said Carina from the hall.</p>
      <p>Sarah shook her head. "I mean, enter!"</p>
      <p>"You talking to him or me?" said Carina.</p>
      <p>Sarah groaned in frustration. "Just get in here already."</p>
      <p>Carina opened the door and stuck her head into the room. "Okay, spoilsport. Anyway, since you're both still dressed, you really should come out here and listen to this."</p>
      <p>Sarah started to stand. "This had better be important."</p>
      <p>"It's more important than what you were <em>about</em> to do, Mrs. Eight-Weeks-and-Counting. Come on."</p>
      <p>When Chuck and Sarah went out to the briefing room, neither Casey nor Carina was paying any attention to the downloaded data from the stolen drive. Instead, they were both waiting impatiently at the main console. The screen showed the frozen image of the inside of Gertrude's office. "All right, Casey, we're here. What's this about?"</p>
      <p>"It's about time," said Casey. "Listen to this." He clicked a button and the picture started to move.</p>
      <p>Verbanski had hung her coat on a rack, but she and her 'guest' were plainly visible. "<em>Your performance today was less than what I expected, Mr. Depak</em>."</p>
      <p>"<em>I'm sorry, Miss Verbanski</em>," said Manoosh. "<em>They were my teammates once…"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>And your friends. I understand."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>It's not that, Miss Verbanski,"</em> said Manoosh. "<em>They train with Chuck. They know all my moves." </em>Gertrude cleared her throat. <em>"Well, that's all behind us now. This company has a strong relationship with Carmichael Industries, and that's a good reason for us to keep it that way</em>," she said. "<em>But this is a business where loyalties can shift, so it is even more important to know where we stand. You work for me, and I expect you to fight for this team's interests, even against your old team, is that clear?"</em></p>
      <p>Manoosh fidgeted. "<em>Then…I guess I should tell you about the bug?"</em></p>
      <p>Casey hit Pause. "I learned a few new curses, but there's nothing useful after that." He killed the playback entirely. "I'm dead to her now."</p>
      <p>Even Carina had the grace to look sad about that. "Don't worry, Casey," said Chuck. "I broke this, I'll fix it."</p>
      <p>"Do me a favor, Bartowski," said Casey, launching himself out of his seat, agitated. He needed to kill something, even if it was just a paper target. "Stop trying to do me favors."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Later, at an outdoor café…</p>
      <p>"Thanks for meeting me, Ellie," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"Believe me, your invitation couldn't have come at a better time," said Ellie, sitting down. "Dad and I have been working on trying to figure out what's happening with Manoosh, but it's hard to make any progress without real data."</p>
      <p>"So that scanner data from this morning…?"</p>
      <p>"A big help, really," said Ellie. "What I wouldn't give to get him back in the lab, but…you know they're watching us now, don't you?"</p>
      <p>"I spotted your tail as you came in," said Sarah. She'd have one of her own when she left. Hopefully whatever Beckman had planned to get the DoD off their backs it would be soon, she was tired of dodging these guys. She lifted a menu to shield her lips. "You heard he's at VC now?"</p>
      <p>Ellie lifted her menu too. She'd never eaten here before. "Mm-hmm."</p>
      <p>"Well, I have some news you wouldn't have heard yet."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Meanwhile, back at CI…</p>
      <p>Chuck was alone. Casey was out scoping the site where the helicopter would be coming in, and Carina knew of a nice little costume shop for the uniforms, although Chuck didn't want to know <em>how</em> she knew of it. He sat at his desk, doing what he usually did when Sarah wasn't around, playing on his computer. He'd lost Sneijder to Verbanski, and he'd lost Manoosh to her as well, but he had the data to console himself with. With Sneijder in custody and his computers seized, there really was no reason for him to look at the data, but Karl played in an international sandbox with some very nasty playmates. This data would eventually end up in an upload, where it would be work, but for now it was the Piranha's turn to come out and play.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"That's very disturbing information," said Ellie.</p>
      <p>"I know," said Sarah. "The Manoosh I know wouldn't call us cavemen."</p>
      <p>"Then you don't know Manoosh," said Ellie, to whom the little man was much more forthcoming, in the many hours they spent together. Ellie didn't punish him for being honest, so he was. "The only difference is that now he believes he can get away with saying it."</p>
      <p>"So why do you find it disturbing?"</p>
      <p>"I don't," said Ellie. "But he admires Chuck, and respects him. What could be happening to change that? Not to mention the unconsciousness." Ellie's phone rang, and she checked the display. "Speak of the devil." She put the phone on the table and hit Accept. "Dad?"</p>
      <p>"Ellie? I have the answer!"</p>
      <p>"That's great, Dad," Ellie replied. "What's the question?"</p>
      <p>"I know what's causing the fainting spells."</p>
      <p>Ellie looked at Sarah. "And here I was, just not mentioning them. Sarah's here with me."</p>
      <p>Sarah put her signal disrupter on the table next to phone, in case anyone was listening in. "Hi, Stephen."</p>
      <p>"I told you, call me Dad."</p>
      <p>While he was bugging her bracelet. Which they stole. Because he bugged it. "You act like a Dad, I'll call you Dad."</p>
      <p>"Okay, a) I've never known how to be a Dad," said Orion. "And b) it's been twenty years since I had a chance to practice."</p>
      <p>"And c)," said Ellie, "We're talking about Manoosh's fainting spells."</p>
      <p>"Fine," said Sarah.</p>
      <p>"We were looking at the symptoms collectively," said Stephen, moving on. "The fainting spells have no relation to the behavioral changes. They're a physical response to the functioning of the Intersect in his brain."</p>
      <p>"Why would it take so long to see them?" asked Sarah. "In other Intersect trials the response was immediate." And usually fatal.</p>
      <p>"Manoosh designed the glasses," said Ellie. "And he used himself as a test subject."</p>
      <p>"For a single skill," said her father. "Not all of them, or skills with data components, and it's the data portion that's doing the damage. Remember how Chuck suffered after the Ring shut down his brain?"</p>
      <p>The ladies shared a glance at what they hoped was a rhetorical question. Neither of them would ever forget that pain-filled time. "Go on."</p>
      <p>"The skills are distributed throughout the body, and from the look of the code they have some rudimentary fail-safes built in, to prevent harm. Manoosh's glasses have hardware fail-safes for the same purpose."</p>
      <p>"You think they're affecting each other?"</p>
      <p>"I think so, but not in the right ways, or not enough," said Orion. "His nervous system is overloading, and each time he gets weaker. He needs to stop using the Intersect, otherwise it'll kill him."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"We have to save him," said Chuck, as they took positions on the roof. All of their plans boiled down to that truth, that endgame.</p>
      <p>"Have to find him first," said Casey, scanning the roof with a night-vision scope. They'd tried to call her with the information, get her to bench Manoosh until the deadly Intersect could be removed, but she'd already left her base and had gone dark. "They had the same information we did. Knowing Gertrude, this is the most logical capture point. Wherever they are now, I'll bet dollars to donuts they'll be here for the main event."</p>
      <p>"You think maybe they're going after Zorn directly?" asked Carina. "He's running late, isn't he?"</p>
      <p>"Yes," said Chuck. "According to Beckman's intel, he doesn't stay in one place very long."</p>
      <p>Casey grunted a negative. "Too many pinch points, as your mother would say. Elevator failure, multiple stairwells. But no matter how many different routes he has, they all come out here, so here is where we wait."</p>
      <p>"The heli's late too," said Chuck. "No point in coming up until it's here. We just have to get to it before she does, after it lands." Because what made more sense, to evac through a crowded hotel, or from a roof that has a fueled helicopter waiting for them?</p>
      <p>"I hear it," said Carina.</p>
      <p>"Over there," said Chuck, and they all moved behind some air-handling installations as the heli flew up alongside the building, aiming for the pad. This simplified things for them. Grab the chopper, and trade it for Manoosh. Gertrude could have the bounty, they'd only have to turn it back in anyway.</p>
      <p>The heli touched down and the blades slowed, as the crew disembarked. <em>Now!</em></p>
      <p>Chuck, Carina, and Casey appeared as one, training their weapons on–</p>
      <p>Gertrude Verbanski and Company. Crap. They must have taken the heli at the other end, which …actually made a lot of sense, if you had a guy who could just download a flight program for a any make or model into his head. So not good.</p>
      <p>"Agent Charles," said Gertrude, her own weapon drawn "What happened, couldn't defeat me without listening in on my plans?"</p>
      <p>Chuck lowered his gun. "That's not why I had Casey plant the bug, Gertrude. I didn't want to spy on you, I have no interest in your client list." He stepped from behind the machinery, put the gun into its holster.</p>
      <p>She didn't. "Then why do it?"</p>
      <p>"Because Carmichael Industries isn't a company, it's a mission," said Chuck, holding up his empty hands. "A mission that had to look like a company, and after what happened at SAFE, it had to look like a very good company."</p>
      <p>Her gun went off line. "So you bugged me as a gesture of respect?" said Gertrude, incredulous. Then her grip tightened, the gun coming back up. "Why should I believe you?"</p>
      <p>A door opened behind Chuck, but he didn't move, trusting his team to handle whatever was coming up behind him.</p>
      <p>Gertrude didn't move either. "Manoosh? Get Zorn, take him back." Gunfire erupted as Zorn's men tried to protect their employer. Bullets flew everywhere. One of them hit the side of the helicopter. No one noticed.</p>
      <p>Before Manoosh could begin to flash, Chuck shouted out, "Manoosh, no! You'll die!"</p>
      <p>Manoosh glowered at Chuck suspiciously. "What do you mean, I'll die? There's nothing wrong with me."</p>
      <p>"Stop shooting," shouted a strange voice, had to be Zorn's, from behind Chuck. "What do you want?"</p>
      <p>"Carina, take him," he said.</p>
      <p>"Phrasing!" she shouted.</p>
      <p>"Arrest him, that is. Arrest him." Gertrude ran after her, to stake her claim, and may the best bounty hunter win.</p>
      <p>"It's not you, Manoosh," said Chuck, now that Verbanski was out earshot. "It's the Intersect. Doctor and Orion have been studying the skills for days, trying to figure out what's wrong with you."</p>
      <p>"There's nothing wrong with me that getting away from <em>you</em> didn't cure!"</p>
      <p>"What about your fainting spells?"</p>
      <p>"I wasn't fainting, that was <em>you</em> shooting me with tranq darts whenever I was about to show you up."</p>
      <p>"No, Manoosh," said Chuck, reaching into his coat. The helicopter engine started up, the blades beginning to spin. Manoosh turned and saw Mats Zorn in the pilot seat, making a break for it.</p>
      <p>"Zorn!" called Chuck, and Manoosh looked back at him. Chuck pulled out one of Casey's Desert Eagles.</p>
      <p>Manoosh's eyes got wide. Chuck never used a real gun. "Chuck?"</p>
      <p>Chuck put a bullet in the engine cowl, and the engine started to grind. He put away the gun and pulled out his phone. "Out of the helicopter, Zorn," he said, tapping the screen.</p>
      <p>Manoosh looked at the hole spilling black smoke. Wow! That was so…elegant! "Chuck! That was–"</p>
      <p>"Here you go, Manoosh." Chuck tossed his phone to the other man. The screen showed Alex McHugh's face, her number dialing.</p>
      <p>Manoosh put it to his ear. "Alex? No, it's, it's Manoosh..Alex, please, no, I'm not going to die!... Ellie? What are you doing there? Did Chuck put you up to…No, I guess he can't, can he?" He winked at Chuck. "You have readouts?...The scanner? When did you get scans–?...My bedroom? She was in my bedroom and I missed it?...Of course I'll take a look, I love that thing!"</p>
      <p>Mats Zorn stood there, looking at Manoosh chatting on the phone, and everybody fighting. "Please," he said to Chuck, "Take me to jail. You people are all a bunch of maniacs!"</p>
      <p>Chuck gave him a lopsided grin. "Would you believe this is one of our <em>good</em> days?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Carina and Gertrude went halfsies on the arrest, with Carina, predictably, choosing the guy, leaving the case and all its documents to Gertrude. Chuck let them sort it out, waiting for Manoosh to give him his phone back.</p>
      <p>"A-hem," said Gertrude, standing behind him with the case.</p>
      <p>"Oh," said Chuck, startled. "Uh, yeah." He took the phone and backed off. "Sorry." He didn't want to know anything about this conversation.</p>
      <p>"You guys okay?" he asked everybody on the other side of the roof, regardless of team. They were all on the same side, after all. Casey grunted an Okay. The guy he'd been beating up on grunted a less-than-okay.</p>
      <p>Casey made a face, sniffing the wind. "What's that smell?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The last of the aviation fuel dripped out of the hole that had been put into the tank, which was now empty. The flammable liquid streamed out across the roof, until it hit an exposed wire from one of the lights surrounding the platform.</p>
      <p>The line of fuel flared up, fed by the wind into a wall of flame. Gertrude Verbanski leaped back away from the threat, banging her head on the wall of the helicopter.</p>
      <p>Manoosh saw her go down and looked for help, for Chuck, and saw everyone on the far side of the flames. The fire was sweeping toward him, them, following the stream back to its source.</p>
      <p>He pulled Verbanski's limp body over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, not the Intersect, just VC-standard training. Case in hand, he staggered toward the wall of flames. Over the crackle of the fire and the roar of the wind he heard Carina shout, "Chuck! Baby!" and he knew there would be no help from that quarter.</p>
      <p>A coat flopped down in front of him, making a temporary gap in the fire. Casey's coat, Casey's shout. "This whole roof's gonna blow!"</p>
      <p>Manoosh staggered over the bridge even as it burned and delivered Gertrude into Casey's arms, barely able to breathe. Casey grabbed her and her rescuer, pulling them both to the edge of the platform and safety, as the full second tank of the helicopter blew up.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Casey left the little guy on the roof, with Chuck looking after him. He went back to Gertrude, sitting up and rubbing her head. "What happened?" she asked.</p>
      <p>"Little runt saved your life," said Casey, nodding at Manoosh. He handed her Zorn's case. "And your bounty." He reached into his pocket. "Here," he said, handing her a flash drive. "Everything we got from that bug. No phone calls were overheard and all the documents were blurred out. I wouldn't let them spy on you."</p>
      <p>Verbanski pulled him in for a kiss with a grip of steel. "I know."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh focused on breathing. "Chuck?" Wheeze. "Sorry. For. Every." Wheeze. " Thing."</p>
      <p>Chuck was calling up Devon's number on his phone. Gertrude's less-than-okay associate had been sent down to get whatever first aid they had available, especially an oxygen bottle, but they could use all the professional medical advice they could get. "Manoosh, don't try to talk. Just breathe."</p>
      <p>"Wanted. To be. Like." Wheeze. "<em>You.</em>"</p>
      <p>Chuck took Manoosh's hand in his own. "You are, buddy. You are."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>I decided to use the problems Chuck had with the 2.0 in S3, as the basis for the problems Manoosh has, slightly modified for the context. He's been protected from the overheating aspects by a number of factors but that won't last much longer.</p>
      <p>Oil fumes are no joke. Chuck and Casey should have been on their knees gasping for air, but it's hard to look heroic that way. Even sillier was the idea that both Morgan and Gertrude would be stunned by a wall of flame.</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
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      <p><strong>A/N </strong>The last part of the canon episode was mostly wrap-up, Casey's first date with Gertrude, Jeff making his polished appearance, Morgan looking for a place to live, etc., along with a little bit to set up the next episode.</p>
      <p>So this chapter will likely be a) short, and b) mostly original plotting, to set up the next episode.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"<em>That didn't happen, did it?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>I guess I should tell you about the bug?"</em></p>
      <p>"<em>We have to save him."</em></p>
      <p>"<em>You are, buddy. You are."</em></p>
      <hr/>
      <p>On a street in Washington DC, getting closer to the FBI main building at frightening speed…</p>
      <p>"Please…" begged the man in the passenger seat.</p>
      <p>The driver took her hand off the wheel and put it over his lips. "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" She grabbed the wheel again. "Yes, hello. This is Carina Miller, DEA, with a priority prisoner in custody. Wherever your Director is, whatever he's doing, patch me through to him right now."</p>
      <p>"Please," whimpered Mats Zorn, her prisoner, cuffed and belted in, as secure as they could make him. "Slow down. You drive like you fight."</p>
      <p>Carina muted her microphone. "Thank you."</p>
      <p>"I don't think that was supposed to be a compliment," said the Verbanski guy in the back seat, holding the prisoner's case.</p>
      <p>Zorn yelped and closed his eyes, as Carina turned her head and flashed her mercenary counterpart a grin, without slowing. "What else could it be?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>In a tiny hotel room, far away from exploding helicopters…</p>
      <p>"You don't think he'll rat us out, do you?"</p>
      <p>There were only four women involved in this whole debacle–herself, Agent Miller, the poor steward lady being held incommunicado with the rest of the flight crew at the fueling station, and the motherly lieutenant holding her there, with the rest of Blue Team–but even so Gertrude had no problem figuring out who 'he' was. "Hmm, the hotel manager, he seemed so nice," she teased, pulling him further into the small room. "You don't mean that cute bellhop?"</p>
      <p>"No bags," said Casey, plucking the cap off her head. The things that stay on during a firefight. "No bellhop." He tossed the cap over his shoulder. "And we went out of our way to <em>avoid</em> the manager." Who was holding the bag at ground zero, and would be glad to offer up anyone else to blame, so they left him out of the loop. Unfortunately, someone had to process her credit card. "But desk clerks are always looking for some extra income."</p>
      <p>A desk clerk in DC? He'd give them up in a second, for the right price, but…"Not while we're here," said Gertrude. Not with the reek of smoke and sweat and the smell of violence still fresh in his nostrils. One man's reek is another female mercenary's perfume, and she breathed it in. "Once we're gone, maybe, but my marketing department is already modifying our contingency plans."</p>
      <p>"You planned for this?" said Casey incredulously, tugging gently on her scarf, pulling it from around her neck. "<em>I</em> didn't even plan for this, and I've worked with Chuck for years."</p>
      <p>She smiled, as if he'd paid her a compliment. She'd only worked with and against Agent Charles for a little while, but even so, she'd learned to prepare for the unexpected. She liked success. "Thank you." John had already lost his uniform jacket to the fire, so Gertrude undid his tie instead. "We have press releases for either failure or success drawn up before we even go in."</p>
      <p>As she lowered her arms, Casey pushed her uniform jacket off her shoulders. "What about both at the same time?"</p>
      <p>She let it slide to the floor, leaving the tie in one of the sleeves. "They could use a challenge."</p>
      <p>He fiddled with the tiny buttons of her blouse with his large fingers. "So can I."</p>
      <p>She ripped his shirt open. "I get enough of those at work."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Manoosh opened his eyes. Why was the room…moving? "Chuck?" he said weakly. The mask on his face didn't help, muffling his voice, but people in respiratory distress weren't supposed to be having long-winded conversations anyway.</p>
      <p>Chuck barely heard him, over the sound of the siren and the amazing amount of noise the ambulance made. He looked at his fellow nerd's face, saw Manoosh looking at him. "You shouldn't be trying to talk."</p>
      <p>Manoosh wasn't about to argue the matter. "What's…happening?" He remembered very little from the roof, focused on his breathing. There was shouting, a lot of noise, and the world moving around him a lot, but he didn't try to process any of it.</p>
      <p>"Carina and that Verbanski guy are bringing Zorn in. We're in an ambulance, taking us, and I mean you, to the hospital where Surgeon works," said Chuck. "We got an oxygen bottle on you, from the hotel's first aid kit, and you passed out. The paramedics brought you down to the ambulance and here we are." He left out the circus, the emergency services, the government containment specialists, the news media, and in the middle of it all, the hotel manager. Chuck was so glad he wasn't in <em>that</em> guy's shoes right now. "They had to call for a bunch more, what with you, and all the bodyguards."</p>
      <p>Chuck leaned in close. "To be honest, I think Verbanski sent her man with Carina just to get him out of her hair. I know Casey got them a room for them to–" air quotes "–'wait in', until the other half of her team arrived. That might take a while, since they have to figure out what to do with the original crew, but I think Casey and Gertrude will manage to occupy their time."</p>
      <p>Manoosh made a choking sound.</p>
      <p>Chuck looked, but he wasn't choking. "What? He's not a robot. Besides, They couldn't risk being seen. Casey wouldn't want the exposure, and there's no way Gertrude would want to be known as the damsel in distress in all this."</p>
      <p>Manoosh started to cough.</p>
      <p>"Exactly," said Chuck. "Don't worry, she's got people on top of people. Once they pull together a story, you just grunt, cough and nod."</p>
      <p>Manoosh sagged.</p>
      <p>Chuck could sympathize. "I hear you," he said. Those first few times, he'd also wished he could trumpet his achievements from the rooftops, until Zarnow came to his house, and La Ciudad came to his job. As the Piranha, he'd learned to value invisibility instead, and he applied that mindset to his physical work. If people knew what he'd done, then he'd failed to do it right. "We all know what you did, and Gertrude knows what you did. Pretty soon Sarah, Beckman, Ellie, Hannah, and Alex will too." Suddenly Chuck laughed. "Even Zorn knows, but Carina's taking him to the FBI right now, so, no help there." Chuck shrugged. "You'll come out of this all right."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Elsewhere, at an R-A-M in Silver Springs…</p>
      <p>"It's been two days, Mr. Decker," said Vivian severely. "Mr. Carmichael could have found the Piranha by now."</p>
      <p>"Cute," said Decker, "But unlikely." He waved his hand dismissively. "With my resources, two days is adequate time to <em>find</em> the Piranha, if by 'find' you mean city and state. Two days is barely enough time to begin to create the trap that will bring him to you. Us."</p>
      <p>Her problems were his problems, or didn't he realize that? Perhaps he needed a reminder. "And why is that?"</p>
      <p>He grinned at her. "Because we need the Piranha to build it."</p>
      <p>She did not grin back. "You've lost your mind."</p>
      <p>"The Piranha will see through any trap we try to set," said Decker, sketching a circle on the bar top. "The only way to trap him is to leave the bait–" he put down his drink "–in plain sight, and let his own creative paranoia build the trap around it." He moved a lot of bottles and glasses into a loose circle. "Only when he believes he's solved the trap that he himself created will he feel safe to go after the bait. That's when we strike." He reached out to pick up his glass.</p>
      <p>Vivian pressed her hand down on top of his, pinning it, and the glass, in place. "By defeating himself, he'll give us the means to defeat him."</p>
      <p>Decker pulled his drink out from under her hand. "Correct."</p>
      <p>"Excellent," said Vivian, imagining the look in her victim's eyes when he learned the truth. Her father had always said that his victims doomed themselves, unable to control their lust for…for… "What is the bait?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Heart surgeons aren't normally seen in the emergency room, so when the same heart surgeon made his second appearance in less than a month, they noticed. The same tall, blond, handsome, Nordic God heart surgeon, even more so.</p>
      <p>He carried a picture of his wife in his wallet, showed it to everyone. Some of the more predatory nurses had convinced themselves it was a ploy to keep them at bay. Then a woman who looked just like the photograph appeared in the ward, very pregnant and very ill. Later they heard it was poison, but they never found out what kind.</p>
      <p>They did find out that the photo wasn't a ploy, but he didn't show it anymore. He showed the photos of his new daughter to everyone, instead.</p>
      <p>They remembered the tall guy who came in with the wife, too. When <em>he</em> came in a second time, with someone <em>else</em> on a stretcher, and the security staff running interference, <em>again</em>, no one stopped him commandeering a private room, or paging the doctor he'd dealt with before. Only the Billing Department wanted or <em>would</em> want to have anything to do with it, and they weren't on call tonight.</p>
      <p>It was nice to see Dr. Woodcombe again, though.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"So who's idea was this, anyway?" asked Ellie, bringing some herbal tea into the living room. At this time of night she didn't need any more caffeine, and Sarah shouldn't have it for a lot longer than that.</p>
      <p>"Mine," said her pregnant sister-in-law. "Or at least Chuck wanted me to think so."</p>
      <p>"He's pretty transparent, isn't he?" said Ellie, setting the mugs down. "He's just trying to spare you from fretting over a simple operation."</p>
      <p>"I'm perfectly capable of multi-tasking," said Sarah, sipping her beverage and trying not to make a face. This was her life now. "I can fret while talking about babies. Just watch me."</p>
      <p>"Let me get my books," said Ellie. She got up and went into the spare room, where all the obsolete baby-related materials were kept, against the day when she or someone near and dear to her heart might need them.</p>
      <p>"I'm just glad you still have them," said Sarah from the living room. "Chuck was all set to buy his own."</p>
      <p>"That would have been a waste," said Ellie, simply to say something. He must be freaking out, but she wasn't going to say that to his wife, on top of her other concerns. After so many years of living hand-to-mouth the way they had, wasting money on books they already owned should have never occurred to him. Or maybe that was just his definition of luxury, like hers was being able to hold on to stuff she liked simply because she liked it.</p>
      <p>Her phone rang, so she put the books down to answer it. "Hello?"</p>
      <p>"Ellie, it's Hannah. Is Sarah there with you? Say 'yes' or 'no'."</p>
      <p>Ellie could think of a few reasons why Hannah would call her about Sarah, and none of them were good. "Yes."</p>
      <p>Hannah continued with the directives. "Whatever you do, keep her away from the news."</p>
      <p>"We're studying my old baby books," said Ellie, recovering from her confusion.</p>
      <p>"Great."</p>
      <p>"Who are you talking to?" asked Sarah.</p>
      <p>Ellie pulled the phone away from her mouth. "Hannah." She spoke into the phone. "Why don't you come over, we'll have a baby-party."</p>
      <p>Confident tone completely gone. "…I just got back from my honeymoon…"</p>
      <p>Ellie pushed harder. "Well, isn't that just perfect timing, then."</p>
      <p>Whimper. "But…"</p>
      <p>"Great," said the General. "We'll see you in a few. Bye, now."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Diane Beckman wasn't working late, exactly, but a person in her position never really took time off, even at home in her own living room. Even the evening news was a chance to observe her work from the outside. If she saw her own hand in anything they brought up on the news, it meant she'd done something wrong. Or at least it used to, back when the news was news. Still, it had its amusing aspects.</p>
      <p>Surprisingly, the main focus tonight was on a helicopter explosion. "I must say, this is unexpected," said Roan, standing behind her with two glasses of wine.</p>
      <p>Diane reached up and selected one of the glasses, taking a sip. "I'll say."</p>
      <p>Roan moved the chair he usually used, and sat. "Have you heard from Charles?"</p>
      <p>"Charles?" said Diane. "Charles who?"</p>
      <p>"Ah, yes," said Roan, touching his glass to hers. "My apologies."</p>
      <p>The screen blanked, announcing an incoming communication, which she of course accepted. The face of her aide appeared. "General, we have a situation."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The door know rattled. And rattled some more. Finally it opened, and a hand reached into the room and fumbled for the light switch. Eventually it found the switch and the room became illuminated. The door pushed open a little wider, as whoever opened it tried to move backward into the room. At precisely the moment when her lips crossed the invisible dividing line between hall and room, the man kissing her so fiercely, so ardently, suddenly stopped.</p>
      <p>"Morgan?" asked Alex. "We're here, you don't have to stop."</p>
      <p>"But Alex, weren't you listening when Mrs. Pendergast said she didn't want to see us kissing in our rooms anymore? Where else am I supposed to kiss you?"</p>
      <p>"You goof," Alex laughed, smacking him on the arm."She didn't mean in the hall, she meant with the door closed, silly." She pulled him into her room, closed the door, and was moving in for the kill when her phone rang. "Dammit. Hold that thought." She walked past him, trying to get some privacy, just in case.</p>
      <p>Morgan, eyes closed, and lips puckered, blinked, unpuckered, and said, "Huh?" He turned around as Alex accepted the call.</p>
      <p>"McHugh secure…Yes, sir?...yes, sir…right away." Her shoulders slumped, and she turned around, to see Morgan sitting on a chair as far from her as he could. "I have to go," she said regretfully.</p>
      <p>He stood, and got his coat. "Call of Duty?" For John Casey's daughter, duty would always come first. He could live with that. For him, she would always come first.</p>
      <p>"Two hours of Laser Tag wasn't enough for you?" she asked, her voice thick with frustration. <em>It was for me.</em> She pulled him in for a searing kiss. "I'll be back. As soon as I can."</p>
      <p>"I'll be here."</p>
      <p>"Wait for me."</p>
      <p>"Of course I will."</p>
      <p>She grabbed his collar, and stared into his eyes. "I mean it, <em>wait</em> for me."</p>
      <p>For a moment Morgan looked blank. Then suddenly, "<em>Oh…</em>"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Back in the house where Evil dwelled…</p>
      <p>'What is the bait?' <em>Wouldn't you like to know?</em> Decker swirled the ice in his glass, took a sip. "That's the best part."</p>
      <p>She waited, but he didn't say anything more. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"</p>
      <p>"Miss Volkoff, we are all contributing members of the Triangulum," said Decker. "We don't ask where or how you acquire your money. In return, we expect you not to be too curious about how we acquire our…intelligence."</p>
      <p>"If we are a triumvirate, then who's the third?" Not Mr. Delgado, surely.</p>
      <p>"Infrastructure," said Decker, "And that's all you need to know. Eventually you will need to know more–" unless he could cut her out before then "–but for now you don't. Suffice it to say, that your hunt for the Piranha should feed into our other plans quite nicely."</p>
      <p>The door rattled under a flurry of knocks. "Miss Volkoff. Miss Volkoff!" Of course it was Mr. Carmichael. Thomas wouldn't have bothered to knock.</p>
      <p>"You may enter," said Vivian. There was no evidence of their scheming, except for the circle of bottles, and that could mean anything.</p>
      <p>Carmichael threw open the door, laptop in hand. "You have to see this." He set the computer on the bar, pushing the glasses and whatnot out of the way, as Decker and Vivian took positions for viewing. Carmichael pressed play, and stepped backward.</p>
      <p>Vivian stared at the screen, eyes growing wider, and colder. "Oh. My. God."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Morgan went back to his room, disappointed. The Laser Tag had been a good idea, he really had to thank Sam for suggesting it. Alex looked like she was having fun, too, even more than he'd expected, until that phone call.</p>
      <p><em>On the other hand, she </em>is<em> Casey's daughter, maybe I </em>should<em> have expected it.</em></p>
      <p>Now was not the time to be thinking about that. Anything but that, in fact. He'd been hoping to bring up an idea he'd been thinking about for a while now, but the mood was all gone. Ruined, and he'd given it his best shot. Now he needed better than his best.</p>
      <p>He needed Chuck.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>General Beckman locked herself in her study, and activated her monitor. The screen showed a split image, two men looking less than pleased to be talking to her at this time of night. "Mr. Chairman, Mr. Secretary," she said with a cordial nod. "What can I do for you?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The Director's office looked strange without his assistant guarding the gates. Alex tapped lightly on his door.</p>
      <p>"Come in," said her boss. When she entered, she saw several other people in the room. On the Director's desk, a silver case sat opened. "You know everyone here, don't you, Agent McHugh?"</p>
      <p>Yes she did, and they all outranked her. Some of them even outranked him. "What can I do for you, sir?"</p>
      <p>He spun the case around to face her, and she took the hint, approaching the desk. Inside the case she saw a modern laptop, the CD tray wide open. In the tray sat a CD, labeled in her own handwriting. She lifted the lid on the laptop, and the screen lit, showing a frozen image of her, holding a strange-looking gun.</p>
      <p>"We have Mats Zorn in custody, but it seems he didn't wait to upload this video to his servers."</p>
      <p>The director pushed the lid down, and took the disk. Fishing in his desk he found an empty case, and put it away. "So the question is not what you can do for us, since it seems you've already done quite enough." His wave included all the others in the room. "The question is, what do we do about you?"</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>"Kill them," said Vivian, calmly. She'd watched the video through, twice. She'd counted her breaths, counted her heart's beats, counted the number of people that had to involved in this travesty, at least five. And when she could trust herself to speak calmly, as a Volkoff ought, she'd spoken. "Find out who they are and kill them all." She put a finger on the screen, a face. "Start with her."</p>
      <hr/>
      <p><strong>A/N2 </strong>Okay, not as short as I thought.</p>
      <p>Devon got a scene mainly because he had that bit with Jeff in canon, so I figured he should have something to hark back to that. I don't actually know if heart surgeons appear in the Emergency Room much, it seemed like the sort of thing they'd do for admitted patients.</p>
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